The Beginings of Uncle Nigel
by BuckRockgut
Summary: The Veil of Death, a creation of unknown origins, thought to kill anyone who enters it. Yet that's not exactly true, it doesn't kill. How do I know? Simple, I fell through it... Humanized! Penguin Animagus!
1. Chapter 1

_The Veil of Death , a creation of unknown origins, thought to kill anyone who enters it. Yet that's not exactly true, it doesn't kill. How do I know? Simple, I fell through it in a battle at the Department of Mysteries within the Ministry of Magic in the place of my Godfather. Instead of dying I woke as a child almost seventy years in the past. Who am I? Well, some know me as Harry Potter: Boy-Who-Lived, The Golden Boy, The Chosen One. And some know me as Super-Secret Agent Nigel of Penguin MI6, or PMI6._

_Personally, I prefer Nigel._

* * *

It happened all too fast. I didn't even have time to think as I acted solely on instinct. With strength I didn't know I still had I shoved Sirius out of the way of Bellatrix's spell only to be hit directly in the chest. I stumbled backwards and then there was this feeling of walking on clouds.

"Harry!"

Sirius looked terrified, a haunted look of horror on his face. I didn't understand why though. It didn't hurt, I didn't even feel the spell Bellatrix had hit me with. I could hear whispering voices all around me as I was further lifted from the ground and lifted deeper into the Veil. I smiled at Sirius, half wishing I could find my voice to tell him that it was okay, before the Veil completely consumed me.

That was supposed to be it. Everyone knew only Death waited those who went through the Veil and I didn't mind if at was how I died, but it wasn't. One minute I was floating and the next I was falling several hundred feet directly for the ocean suddenly bellow me in the body of a child. so I did what any reasonable teen-turned-child would do in my situation:

I screamed.

I was still screaming when I hit water.

* * *

Being a Penguin Agent and working for PMI6, Super-Secret Agent Dylan Tux was used to a lot of unexpected things happening. It was part of his job after all and one of the things he was trying to escape from for the weekend when he took his yatch, The Elizabeth, out for a weekend cruise at sea. It wasn't even twelve hours into the trip when that plan went down the drains he spotted something he didn't expect:

A child falling from the Heavens, screaming in utter terror.

Not that he blamed that Lad he would have done the same if he was in the boy's shoes. The Child was still screaming when he hit water near The Elizabeth and without a moments thought, the British spy dived overboard after the Lad. a few moments later, he surfaced with the Lad held firmly in his arms. It was only after he pulled them both onto the yatch did he get a good look at the boy.

He was exotic, Dylan would give him that. Messy snow white hair, feminine features and skin pale like fresh fallen snow, not to mention the oversized clothes the child was wearing. He patted the lad's back as the boy coughed out the invading water.

"Thank you."

The boy's voice was soft and gently despite being a bit hoarse, probably from all his screaming, but that wasn't what had Dylan's attention. No, his attention was focused solely on the Lad's startling emerald eyes that looked far too old for such a young child.

* * *

"So, any idea on how you came to be falling from the sky, Lad?"

Without a moments hesitation, Harry shook his head. He honestly didn't know as the last he checked The Veil of Death led to instinct death, not falling from skies at unholy heights. Harry studied the man, who without a doubt had saved his life only an hour before.

* * *

He was tall and slim with well hidden muscles. He moved with the natural grace of a predator. His eyes were a deep hazel that despite being full of warmth held a sharp edge to the like a blade. His hair was raven black and smoothed back in a way that suited him.

"Got a name, Lad?"

Harry wasn't sure why but he shock his head 'No'. For some reason it seemed wrong to tell the man his name as Harry Potter had died the moment he went through the Veil and he sure didn't look like his old self. The man frowned at his response.

"Well that won't do. Everyone deserves a name."

The man gained a thoughtful look as he eyed the Lad before nodding to himself.

"How does Nigel sound? Nigel Tux?"

Harry repeated the name as if testing it before giving a small smile and nodding in agreement.

Nigel Tux, he liked the way it rolled off his tongue and it felt perfect to him. As if it was meant for him. The man smiled.

"Well then Nigel, I'm Dylan. Dylan Tux and I guess you can consider yourself officially adopted."

And with that, Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, finally died leaving only Nigel Tux behind.

* * *

**So review and tell me what you think.**


	2. Chapter 2

Growing up with Dylan as a Father was... Interesting, to say the least. The man was a wealthy bachelor with no other family though he had plenty of friends. Friends that all came by at every hour wearing suits most of the time. Sometimes Dylan would leave with them when he thought Nigel was asleep, but he wasn't. Some times Nigel would be wide awake and faking sleep when the men came to talk to Dylan about something or another. It didn't take long for Nigel to figure out that Dylan was living another life. He may be four physically but he was still a fifteen year old mentally.

Nigel never asked Dylan about his Double Life but was instead thankful his new Father wasn't dragging him into whatever trouble he got into when he left with the men. Instead he seemed rather determined to keep Nigel out of whatever he did. And it worked for a few years but trouble always had been exceptionally found of Harry and Nigel would be no different.

It was a two years later only days before Christmas when everything went to Hell in a hand basket.

* * *

The day had started out normal enough, he and Dylan ha risen at five, went on their usual before breakfast exercise: a two mile run followed by a mile swim in the ocean. Before heading home, he took a quick shower while Dylan made a light breakfast of eggs on toast and muffins with a glass of warm tea. It was around ten when Dylan had to run a quick errand, a sudden urgent call from his work.

It around eleven-thirty when Nigel begin to start making lunch. It was a simple meal so it was to be done at twelve exactly, around the time Dylan was to be home. It was eleven forty-five when Nigel heard the kitchen door open behind him. Having heard no "I'm home", he knew instantly it wasn't Dylan. Looking only proved it.

There were six men standing in the doorway, five wore matching outfits of white shirts and jeans. The six was a man who was from what Nigel could tell was a little bit taller then Dylan with natural silver hair and golden eyes that reminded Nigel of an owl's, sharp and calculating.

"Nigel Tux?"

The smooth Russian accented voice cut through the air like a hot knife through butter. Nigel stared at the group wondering how exactly the got in, seeing as he had locked the door after Dylan left. The man seemed to take silence as confirmation to his question.

"I'm going to have to ask you to come with me."

As of on cue one of the bulkier man stepped forward causing Nigel to take a step back. The man grinned as he took a step closer and Nigel did the first thing that came to his mind:

He threw the scolding hot pot of gravy he was holding right into the man's face.

The man shouted in pain as he covered his face with both hands and another man rushed Nigel, who grabbed the frying pan from the stove and slammed it into the side of the man's face. The man dropped like a hot potato due to the force of the cast iron skillet to his skull.

* * *

The boy was a lot like his Father, the Count would give him that. He watched as the boy ducked under two of his Mice's' arms and scrubbed under the table before darting into the pantry. The door was slammed shut and the click of a lock being set filled the air. He nodded to the still standing men, who started trying to break the doers in and drag the boy out.

Nigel stood in the back of the pantry trying to figure out his next possible move as the slamming on the door continued. The p*** was full of food and shelves that were built into the wall, so there were no weapons or many places to hide as all would be fount in a matter of seconds. He need to think of a plan but nothing really came to mind, so he let his mind settle back onto a lesson Dylan had always told to him to use to help solve problems.

'Think, Nigel, think. Take a step back and look at the situation. Not from your eyes but from an outsiders'

Okay, he was locked in a small room with only one escape and that was blocked to him by the four men outside it. there were no hiding spots that they wouldn't find.

Nigel made a frustrated noise as his eyes darted around the small room, there had to be something he was missing. And thats when he saw it, a medium size vent near the ceiling. The door shook slightly, drawing Nigel's attention to the fact he probably didn't have much longer until the door finally caved. Swiftly he begin to climb up the closest shelf to the vent.

* * *

The door cave in with a loud crack as it took the hinges. The Count watched his men rushed in before following only to find the pantry completed deserted. He watched the Mice toss around a few boxes, trying to find the boy, while he looked around and his gaze finally landed on a medium size vent, the perfect size for a small child to crawl though, near the ceiling. The boy was diffidently his Father's son.

* * *

Nigel never felt like the child he looked like more then now. He was bolt locked in the Panic Room with a group of men, who he doubted were very friendly trying to get in to drag him out. He listened to them bang on the door as they tried to get in but the door held firm. Nigel could only hope it would continue to do so.

* * *

The first sign to Dylan that something was wrong when he got home was the fact the front door was slightly open. Nigel never felt the door unlocked and Dylan clearly remembered the boy locking it as he was leaving.

"Nigel?"

He questioned as he entered the house only to get no response. That alone caused Dylan to instantly put up his guard as he cautiously made his way to the kitchen, where he could hear a tea kettle whistle violently. The moment he entered he was filled with a sense of dread as the usually well organized and tidy kitchen looked as if a mini cyclone had hit it. It was painfully obvious to the spy that there had been a struggle in the room some time earlier in the day. And judging by the overturned door and kicked in pantry, the struggle had led out of the kitchen.

"Nigel?"

The silence was deafening and for the first time in ages, Dylan felt a sense of panic overcome him.

"Nigel?"

With each destroyed room he rushed through Dylan felt his panic grow.

"Nigel, Lad, answer me!"

He was in the middle of a full blown panic attack when he noticed the usually hidden door to the Panic Room. The door was scorched slightly, showing signs that someone had tried getting in by using a blowtorch on the steel door but the old thing had held firm. A sense of hope filled Dylan as he rushed to the door and tried to open it only to discover it was locked from the inside.

"Nigel? Nigel, are you in there?"

Dylan banged on the door for a good two minutes before he heard the click of a bolt lock being turned. A second later the door was slowly opened and Dylan fount himself staring into the pale, tired face of his six year old son.


	3. Chapter 3

**It wasn't long after the attack that they moved. It didn't really surprise Nigel as he had half expected it. Though he didn't expect to learn that Dylan was a Super Secret Agent for a PMI6, or better know as Penguin MI6. Before that he didn't even know such an organization existed but it did. It was a special force in MI6 that only the best of the best Penguin Age****nts got selected into. And apparently the man who tried to kidnap him was his Father's Arch Nemesis, Count Victor von Sova , who was better known as Penguin Enemy Number One or The Mad Owl.**

* * *

Their new home was this lovely cottage a good mile and a half from any other place. It was a very private place with lots a yard and the back was just perfect for a garden with its rich soil. Nigel fell in love with the place almost instantly, much to Dylan's internal amusement.

* * *

Regular schooling was exactly as Nigel remembered it: boring. Out of habit from his days as Harry, Nigel held back and did just enough to pass with a high C for the first week. He would have continued to do so if not for one observant teacher calling Dylan a d the two of him tricking him. He had been half asleep when they had sprung their trap and asked him these questions and he had reflexively answered them all.

"Nigel?"

"hmm?" he mumbled with his face hurried in his arms, trying to get some rest.

"You do know those where from a high school graduation test, don't you?"

No, he had not but now he did and his low profile, fade into the background habit was destroyed by Dylan and his teacher. The next day, he was moved up several grades. Mentally he cursed his teen mind for making him seem like a prodigy.

* * *

Nigel rediscovered his magic, the same year he graduated from High School at the age of nine. It had been an accident really, he was trying to avoid the newspaper man that kept trying to his picture for some 'Child Prodigy' article he was writing about Nigel. One moment he had ran himself into a dead end and the next he remembered wishing he was elsewhere. There was a sharp crack noise and then he was outside in the park, which was thankfully deserted at the time. As he had no plans on personally finding of out if people of this time still did Witch Hunts and burnings. Matter of fact, he was quiet determined to never know.

* * *

Dylan knew Nigel was hiding something, something important that he obviously didn't want even him to know about yet Dylan was determined to know what exactly. He wanted to know exactly why the boy kept disappearing during certain times of the day and what he was doing that he couldn't even tell his own Father, so he started to do the one thing he never thought he'd do:

He started to spy on his own son.

It wasn't easy as whatever Nigel was doing seemed to effect the electronics Dylan first tried using, which only made the spy all the more curious. So he decided if the gadgets wouldn't work he'd do things the old fashion way and personally tail and spy on Nigel.

It was easier said then done, Nigel was a natural at noticing people following would notice them, walk around a corner then somehow vanish by time you got to that corner. Even if the corner led to a dead end. Despite how annoying it was for his nine year old son to be able to give him the slip like that, Dylan couldn't hide his overwhelming sense of pride. It was perfectly obvious to him that Nigel was meant to be an Agent for PMI6:

Smart, charming, compassionate, observant, and willing to fight for others can't fight for themselves. Dylan was certain that with a little bit of training he could get the Lad a spot as his protege.

* * *

Nigel sighed as he leaned against the back-alley wall. That had been a close one. He didn't know why Dylan was following him lately but thankfully he managed to give the man the slip without him noticing anything too suspicious. Maybe now Dylan would get a clue and stop following him around like that and he could go back to working on controlling his magic without a wand so he could go back to being a perfectly normal son for the spy. No Wizarding World, no magic, no dragons, no goblins, trolls or Dark Lords. Just Nigel, a normal boy living a normal life, with his Father. A nice, quiet, peaceful live with little to no dangers in it. That was all he wanted.

Little did he know, Fate was laughing at him as her and Destiny weaved their own plans for his new life.


	4. Chapter 4

PMI6 was exactly as Dylan described it to be. The enormous white halls made Nigel feel smaller then ever as he walked with his Father to meet the Commander. Judging from the looks passing Agents shot him, Nigel guess he made a strange sight for such a place.

Not that he could blame them, it wasn't every day you saw a Nine year old holding hands with a Top Agent in their own base. It was obvious he didn't belong their but Dylan was determined that Nigel accompanied him to the meeting. Though he wouldn't tell Nigel why, only that it was a surprise.

Nigel wasn't really sure how he felt about that. Harry didn't really like surprises as most either led to bruises or him running for his life, sometimes both. Still, Nigel decided to give his Father a chance at least. Its not like the man was leading him into a Death Trap and none of Harry's woos were exactly in this time period, waiting around the corner for him.

A few moments later and he would be wishing for exactly that.

* * *

A spy?

Him?

Nigel stared wide eyed and gapping at his Father who was grinning at him. This had to be a joke. He was too young. What about his normal, peaceful life?

A spy would ruin it. Spy's were danger magnets, everyone knew that, and Harry had been an even bigger danger magnet. Putting the two together was a horrible idea and Nigel very much doubted he would ever manage to have a normal weakened let alone a normal life.

He could only watch in opened eyed horror as all his dreams and hopes for a normal like sunk life a ship without a hull.

* * *

Dylan couldn't help but feel proud of himself as he stunned his son into silence. He knew the Lad would be excited about it but not that excited. Mentally he patted himself on the back at his clever thinking. It was ingenious really. The Commander had been on his case for years to get a Protege but no one had ever fit Dylan's specifications, at least not until he had rescued and adopted Nigel. And now seeing the look of shocked joy, Dylan couldn't help but smile. Yes, he had made the perfect choice in picking Nigel to be his Protégé.

* * *

The Commander watched in amusement as Dylan misintrupted the Lad's wide eyed silence. Sure the Lad was shocked just it wasn't in joy, rather it was disbelief and horror. He had done his research on the Child and knew that the Lad wanted a peaceful, normal life when he got older. Something being a Spy would not allow. Still it didn't stop him from helping Dylan sign the Lad up.

What could he say? He would have to be a fool to let such a gifted child slip through his fingers and that was one thing The Commander was not. Either way, the Lad had drawn a lot of attention with his achievements and not all of them were friendly. The Lad was in danger and that had been proven when Victor von Sova had attacked the boy in his own home. Here the Lad could learn to properly defend himself and serve Her Majesty and their Beloved Country at the same time. The Lad would eventually come to enjoy being an Agent, he just needed some time to adjust. And if the Lad was anything like his Father, well...

The Commander certainly wouldn't complain.

* * *

Nigel wanted so badly to tell his Father 'No' that he didn't want to be a Spy, but seeing that look on the man's face made all his words die on his lips. He just couldn't seem to find his voice yet it seemed he didn't need to as the man happily announced that he had already sign Nigel up when he had graduated from High School and now that he was out of college...

Well, it was apparently time for Nigel to pick up the Family Legacy.

A Legacy of a Super Secret Agent for PMI6.

Mentally, Nigel wanted to break into tears of frustration. Why did these sort of things only happen to him?


	5. Chapter 5

It didn't take Nigel long to discover a new enemy within his new life. A enemy that made The Dark Lord and The Count look like fluffy kittens. An enemy close to home that most overlooked. An enemy that put terror into even the strongest of man and could send Voldemort fleeing in utter terror. This enemy?

Fangirls.

Just the very name of this enemy sent a shiver of fear down Nigel's spine.

He had tried acting cold and standoff to get rid of this vile enemy but it had only seemed to encourage them and attracted more to him, so he tried another angle by being charming an polite. Sadly, that also backfired and he soon found himself fleeing form the squealing mass like the Hounds of Hades were chasing him. Personally, Nigel would have preferred it if the Hounds actually were.

* * *

He needed a place to hide. Nigel franticaly glanced around in search of such a place but appearantly the London Zoo wasn't the best place to run, as all he could spot was several nearby habitats and no place to hide. Hearing the vile enemy getting closer, Nigel took a chance and rushed into the nearest habitat. Silenly praying to whatever God that would listen that the squealing mass would not find him.

* * *

Penguins.

The irony was not lost on Nigel still he wasn't complaining as the Mass of Fangirls had rushed by the habitat without so much as a second glance. How they managed not to notice him was beyound Nigel but he wasn't complaining. Grinning, Nigel made his way out of the habitat, only to notice how big everything suddenly was.

Nigel would like to say taht he didn't panic. Tha he stayed calm and kept his wits but that would be a lie.

He panicked, espically when he saw his reflection. He was a part of Penguins MI6 yes, but that didnt mean he wanted to literally be a penguin!

He was too busy freaking out to notice the shadow that feel over him until a pair of hands grabbed him and lifted him off the ground.

"How did you get out of your habitat, Young One?"

* * *

Three days.

Three days since Dylan had last seen his son. The last he saw of Nigel, the Lad had been running away from a mass of squealing Fangirls. At the time, Dylan had only laughed as he watched the Lad disappear into the busy London crowd, but now he was beginning to worry. He was about to head to the Commander's office to report the Lad missing when said Lad dragged himself through the front door of their cottage, looking exaughsted and weary.

"Nigel?"

The Lad looked up as if noticing him for the first time, allowing him to notice dark circles set under his son's eyes. Obviously the Lad hadn't been sleeping well for some reason or another.

"Did they catch you?"

Part of him felt relieved as the Lad shook his head. Thank God, the Lad had been spared that unpleasant experience. The Lad had probably been in hiding all this time, which would explain why he looked so exaughsted and guarded. Dylan very much doubted that even he would sleep had he been the one being chased by that mob.

* * *

Without another word, Nigel made his way to his room and collapsed on his bed far too tired to even care about whatever fantasy his Father was no doubt coming up with about his location for the last three days.

Still, maybe it was better that his Father came up with another fantasy. Its not like he could tell anyone the truth about where he had been without looking like he belonged in a mental hospital.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Author's Note:**_

_**Suntan140,**_

_**Honestly I haven't really decided yet. I'm considering it though but I figured I would let the Readers take a vote.**_

_**The Red Squirrel**_

_**Buck Rockgut**_

_**or **_

_**Red and Buck.**_

_**Please Review your answer or send me a PM. All votes will be tallied by Sunday and the one with the most vote will be the winner. Thank you.**_

_**A tally of the Pole will be kept on my Profile page for those who wish to keep track of who's winning.**_

* * *

He was nervous.

Who wouldn't be knowingly breaking into the Secret Base of The World's Number One Enemy? Many wouldn't even do it or call the mission sucidial, but not Dylan and therefore Nigel. It was a misson from the Commander and therefore had to be carried out with top poriety, still that didn't stop Nigel from having his doubts. He just kept those doubts to himself as he snuck into the base with his Father.

There was diffently something going on between his Father and The Count, of that Nigel was sure. Everytime his Father talked about him he got the look in his eyes, a look Nigel honestly didn't expect to see: Love.

Not Lust, not Desire but Love. It wasn't something he honestly expected to see his Father dirrect at anyone, let alone his Arch Enemy. Still it was there as clear as day along with a hint of nervousness that wasn't caused by the fact they were going after such a dangerous man. It was clear that his Father wanted to meet the man and soon, so Nigel wasn't very suprised that when they finally located the man Dylan sent him to look for the man's protege. No doubt he wanted some time with just the villain and Nigel couldn't find any reason to protest such an action, so he went on his way in search for an eye patch wearing protege.

* * *

Mice.

All he could find were The Count's henchmen. There wasn't a sign of this so called protege and Nigel couldn't help but wonder if there really a protege or had it just been a ruse for Dylan to send him away. He was just about to reenter the ventalation system when a teen, around his age entered the room with a basket full of muffins.

The teen, Nigel had to admit, was quite handsome but it wasn't his looks that held the teen's attention. Instead it was the long, fluffy red tail that moved in impossible ways behind the newcomer. A red squirrel's tail if Nigel wasn't mistaken. A part of him wondered if the other was a wizard like Harry had been that had somehow gotten stuck when trying to turn into his animagus form.

Nigel watched as the teen put the basket down on a table before sending the Mice away. Momentauary distracted on how exatly he was to get back into the ventalation without being notice, Nigel was suprised to find the newcomer was gone when he looked back up.

Maybe Lady Luck decided to cut him a break for a change?

Taking a chance, Nigel silently slipped from his hidding spot and began a fast track to the were the open vent was waiting when a smooth Russian voice spoke from behind him.

"Hello."

* * *

Anyone who knew Harry could tell you that he had been...

...Akward when it come to others he was actracted to. Take the Tri-Wizard Dance for example, he couldn't even entertain his own date and it would seem that Nigel was no different. All it took was for the other to invade his personal space with a warm smile and batting those beautiful gold-ish-amber eyes to turn the Teen into a sputtering mess.

And then then the other- Red- started crying after Nigel refused a muffin. All his training, suspcions and rational thoughts flew out the window in a matter of mili-seconds as his mind screamed at him to fix whatever wrong he had done so that way the Russian teen would stop crying.

"I'd be honored to try one."

The teen spun around, his tail brushing against Nigel causing the teen to blush a cotton candy pink. With a warm smile, Red handed Nigel a muffin, briefly brushing his fingers over the british teen's. Under that warm smile, Nigel took a bite.

Honestly the muffin was absolutely decilious, much better then a lot of the food Nigel or Harry had even eaten, and all too soon the decilious pastery was gone.

"Well?"

He smiled shyly at the Russian, who looked to be waiting eagerly for his opinion.

"It was...It was splen-"

Nigel tried to finish his sentence but suddenly the world seemed to be spinning under him as his vision blurred. He closed his eyes, trying to make the world be still again as he swayed on the spot. A low sigh caused his eyes to shot open in time to see the Red slip on a black eye-patch. Regonition hit Nigel like a turn of bricks but it was too late. Bright emerald eyes slide close before his body hit the floor, but Nigel didn't notice as he was already out cold.

* * *

Dylan could only stare in shock as his son was dragged before him but the Count's Protege, bound firmly in thick ropes and looking utterly embrassed. It was difficult for Dylan to decided weither this embrassesment was caused by his capture or the Count's protege invading his son's personal space by keeping a firm arm around his son's neck in a hug like gesture that caused Nigel to have his back pressed firmly against the rouge hair teen chest.

* * *

They got away.

According to his Dylan, this was common when it came to chasing and trying to bring in The Count. The man always managed to make a last minute escape while setting whatever base he was at to self destruct. He didn't blame Nigel for being captured and having to be rescued and claimed that such an experience would only help Nigel grow by learning from his mistakes.


	7. Chapter 7

**And the winner of the poll was...**

**Red.**

**Despite not winning, I've been considering making this a NigelxRedxBuck ****story ****, as the pairing of Red and Buck came in a close second, but it all depends on how the story plans out.**

**A 'Thank You' for those who did take the time to vote. **

* * *

When he had been asked by Dylan and the Commander to observe The Count's protégée- Red, if he remembered correctly- for a day, Nigel had expected secret meetings, shady activities, maybe a few covered up murders. What he didn't expect was to see the villain running errands.

Honestly, errands?

With the Mice the Count had, Nigel was a bit surprised to see his protégée running the errands and not one of them. Still, Red looked as if he didn't really mind and was content at doing it himself.

* * *

Red knew he was being followed, he knew it from the moment he left the base yet paid it no mind, It wasn't uncommon for the Count to send one the Mice to follow him as a silent, unseen guard when he went out. Which was why he had dismissed his extra shadow and continued on with his day without even the slightest hints of alarm.

* * *

Nigel was honestly bored out of his mind. Red had already been to the postal center, the pharmacy, grocery store and was now in a bakery of all things.

Where was the action?

The evil plots and mad schemes?

The closest thing he was getting to mad was when a group of children somehow convinced Red to buy them a whole rack of cream filling donuts and he really couldn't report that back to The Commander or his Farther as specious activity, not without turning into the laughing livestock of PMI6 Headquarters.

* * *

That was not one of the Mice..

It had been while he was playing tag with the children that Red had finally caught a glimpse of his extra shadow and was startled to learn it wasn't one of the Count's henchmen following him but rather Agent Dylan's Protégé, Nigel.

Putting on a smile, Red turned to the children that had been chasing him with large playful grins.

"Who's up for a game of Hide-n-Seek?"

His answer was the continuous calls of 'Not it'.

* * *

He had been spotted.

Nigel mentally cursed as he perused the Russian villain, who was easily out running him. He groaned as the rouge hair villain scurried up the metal prong ladder leading to the rooftops before following himself. Continuing the chase from rooftop to rooftop as he refused to lose his target, not after following him around all morning.

* * *

He wasn't going to make the jump.

Red cursed as his prediction came true and he just barely missed the other rooftop and begin to rapidly fall towards the streets below. He was certain this was it, there was no way he would survive a fall from those heights so he closed his eye, not wanting to see what would no doubt be his very messy end as he awaited for impact.

...

...

...

**Crack!**

* * *

**Crack!**

Nigel heard the noise and swiftly moved to the edge of the building and glanced over, expecting to see Russian teen splattered on the brick road underneath only...

There was nothing there.

No body.

No blood.

Nothing.

The road bellow was deserted.

So then where was Red?

He had his answer a moment later as he looked up and spotted the confused looking teen standing safely on the other buildings roof- the building Nigel knew for a fact that he had just missed.

Only one explanation came to Nigel's mind or how it was possible.

Apparition.

He was no longer the only one. He was no longer alone.

Red had magic.

Red was a wizard and from the looks of it, the Russian didn't even know it.


	8. Chapter 8

Nigel was Nine the first time he was kidnapped- Dark Lords and thier Minions don't count- on one of his few Solo Mission. Strangly enough it wasn't by the Count but by a Terrorist Organization know as The Seven Shadows.

Nigel knew he could escape using his magic but the only thing that kept him from doing so was the other captive they had, a young black hair man with natural goldish blonde eyebrows and a pair of deep crimson eyes.

His name was Buck Rockgut, he was the Protege to one of the best Penguins' American Agents; Special Agent Jethro Sanderson. He was Seventeen, only two years older then Nigel and always kept Nigel close to him.

Personally, Rockgut got on Nigel's last nerves. He was mentally older then the American yet the other was treating him like a little child. He knew the other Penguin ment well but there was only so much "Sheltering" Nigel could take from the other before he could feel his pacients wearing thin and the damn members of The Seven Shadows weren't helping his already thin pacients.

Mentally sighing, Nigel could only hope Dylan was on his way or he'd probably end up doing something he would no doubt come to regreat...

Maybe. There was also the off chance that he would greatly enjoy it.

* * *

The moment he heard the sound of footsteps, Buck Rockgut had shoved the white hair boy behind him as his crimson eyes hardened. He knew from years of training that it was only a matter of time before someone came to take him or the boy for...

Interigation and was determinded that if push came to shove it would be him and not the fragile looking boy behind him, Nigel, if he remembered correctly.

And once they got out of here he was going to raise Hell with PMI6 for getting the younger boy into his mess in the first place.

Dylan paced as he tried to come up with some way PMI6 could track Nigel now that the tracker in the bracelet the Lad had been wearing was broken. No doubt as a precaution on behalf of The Seven Shadows.

Though Dylan kept a calm façade, that's all it was, a façade.

A mask.

Inside, Dylan was panicking as his mind race with the multitude of torture and suffering his son could currently by going through at the hands of those bloody terrorist. He needed to find his son and it needed to be done, preferably, yesterday.

Yet the longer PMI6 couldn't find Nigel the further Dylan's desperation grew. If PMI6 could not find his son, there was only one other person he could think of that would be able to.

After a brief talk with the Commander, Dylan picked up his phone and dialed a number he never thought he ever would. He listened until he heard the sound of a phone being picked up and soft breathing came from the other line.

"Victor? I need your help."

* * *

Red had to admit, the one thing he never expected to do was be walking around in one of the Penguin's Headquarters and not be in handcuffs. Yet there he was, silently following the Count through the multitude of matching white halls.

Honestly, would it kill them to add a little more color to the place? All this white was enough to drive anyone mad, especially if they saw it constantly on a daily basics. Still, Red kept his thoughts to himself as he followed the Count into a room, where three man were waiting. Two he recognized:

The Commander of PMI6 and Super Secret Agent Dylan.

The third was obvious an American Penguin, judging by the three letters on his jacket: APA.

American Penguin Agency.

He was around 5'10", around the Count and Dylan's age with grey hair and hazel eyes. Jethro Sanderson, according to his name tag. Red silently stood against the back wall as the Count and the Three man set to work on whatever it was the Penguins needed help with.

* * *

The Count sighed softly as he looked up from the laptop he was using. Those clever Bastards. After hours of work, he was able to narrow The Seven Shadows location done to a country and half a city but that was all he could do thanks to some Jammer they had.

"I'm afraid, unless you already have the tracker inside with them it'll be impossible to get an exact coordinate location."

He sighed once more as the three Penguins slumped over in slight defeat and he couldn't blame them, two of their protégé's, their Heirs, were missing.

"So it's impossible to find Nigel."  
Dylan mumbled softly causing Red's head to shot up and look at the Spy, his lone eye suddenly much sharper then before.

"You lost Nigel?"

Dylan sighed softly, "It's not exactly lost. The Seven Shadows just stole him and I don't know his exact location yet."

Red scowled before reaching into his bag and pulling out his own computer, while sitting on the floor. The Count watched as his Protégé's fingers flew over the keypad with interest.

"Red, what are you doing?"

A lone eye locked on him for a brief moment before focusing back onto the computer.

"Finding My Spy since these idiots have managed to lose him."

The Count raised an eyebrow noticing the possessive undertone to his Protégé's voice but decided not to mention it...

For now, at least.

"And how do you plan to do that?"

Jethro asked, a graying eyebrow arched into his hairline.

"I planted a tracker in him the last time we fought. "

Red grinned before turning the monitor towards them. There, steadily blinking on the monitor was a single emerald dot, right in the Southern Warehouse distract.

"Warehouse Number 4 on Jones Harbor."

The Count couldn't help but smile proudly at his Heir, choosing to ignore the borderline creepy way his son had have keeping track of Nigel. Dylan, on the other hand made a mental note to find and destroy the tracker the first chance he had.

* * *

The Count silently scowled at the surveillance monitor in annoyance as he watched one of those terrorist carry his Protégé inside.

Those damn Penguins, who's _brilliant _idea was it to let Red be kidnapped so they could have an inside man anyway?

Oh right, The Commander.

The man better hope nothing happened to his Protégé or there would be Hell to pay.

* * *

Red mentally growled as the bastard carrying him, careless carried him towards the holding cells. Damn it, did the idiot have to stick that boney shoulder into his lungs?

All Red wanted to do then and there was chew the man a new one, yet he kept silent and laid perfectly still, choosing to ignore the discomfort. The Count had asked this of him, after all, and Red refused to let the man down.

* * *

Nigel watched as one of the man entered with a figure wearing a PMI6 Protégé uniform thrown over his shoulder with a sense of dread. There was something familiar about the new boy the man was carrying and he didn't realize what it was until the boy was placed down on the old covers piled on the floor. He would have rushed forward then and there but Rockgut held him back until the man had left the cell and the corridor.

"Red!"

The moment the American let go, Nigel had rushed towards the Russian's side in worry, fearing for the worse. Expect once he got there that lone eye opened and a familiar smirk found its way back onto the villain's lips.

"Hello, Nigel."

* * *

Red had to admit, he enjoyed the startled look on Nigel's face and how the British teen almost jumped out of his skin in shock. He thought it was adorable how the other's emerald eyes widened in shocked surprised yet there was a hint of comfort in them. He was half tempted to tease the older, just to see what reaction he would get but Red decided to postpone such a thing until after they were all safe. Reaching into his jacket, Red mentally crackled as he pulled a lock pick set from the hidden pocket inside.

Armatures.

They didn't even bother searching him, far too ensured with their own safety. Hell they probably believed that immortality bullshit they preached about to their followers. They were going to have a rude awakening very soon if that was the case. Still, that was their problem, not his.

Red smirked as the lock clicked and he pushed open the cell door.

Buck couldn't help but smile as he followed the Russian and Nigel through the rafters. They were almost outside of the warehouse, where Red said the others would be waiting for them. Part of him wondered exactly what Penguin Agency the Russian belonged to, as judging from Nigel's previous reaction, Red wasn't part of PMI6.

Maybe once they were safe and things cooled down, he could pay the Russian a visit? Get to know him and Nigel a bit better.

Maybe they could even end up on the same team when they got older? It was obvious the three of them worked together like a well oiled machine and judging from the gleam in Red's eye, he would be all too happy to help tear a new hole into PMI6 for getting Nigel into this.

Buck's smile grew, he could defiantly see himself getting along with the Russian perfectly.

* * *

Unfortunately such a thing wasn't meant to be.

Once they were safe with their mentors, Buck let his eyes roam around the area, searching for the Russian, who just moments before had help him tear into The Commander of PMI6. Somehow the rouge hair teen had managed to slip away from the crowd and Him without him even noticing.

When he finally did find the other, Red was wearing a crimson outfit instead of the PMI6 uniform. He was also climbing into a car with none other then Count Victor von Sova, Penguin Enemy Number One.

Buck might have thought the Russian was being forced if not for the Count's arm, thrown protectively around the younger's shoulder or way Red seemed at ease with such a dangerous man so close to him. As the Russian climbed into the car, Buck caught sight of what looked to be the tail of a red squirrel and everything suddenly clicked into place.

Why he wasn't scared.

Why he didn't flinch from the Count's touch.

Why he was leaving with the known villain.

Hell, his name was a dead give away!

Red was the Count's Protégé.

The Red Squirrel.

Narrowing his crimson eyes, Buck watched the car drive away.


	9. Chapter 9

Nigel really couldn't say he was suprised when Buck started to show up, apparently the American had gotten the same Mission as Nigel:

Hunt down and being in the Count's Protégé, The Red Squirrel.

Still it didn't mean Nigel had to like it, nor did he. Red was his responsibility and this American was trying to steal his mission. And more importantly, Red, from him.

Nigel wasn't going to allow that to happen though, Buck could go back home for all he cared, as it was obvious the American wasn't needed.

Nigel could complete the mission on his own and he was determinded to prove it by bringing Red in before Buck had the chance.

* * *

Buck knew Nigel wasn't happy about him going after Red, but he also knew the Nancy Cat would never be able to catch the Russian. Red was a professional, that was obvious seeing how the Count's Protege had acted during the Rescue Mission.

Nigel was too soft for the job, Red would probally tear the younger boy to pieces if given a chance. What they needed a Real Penguin to the job, to bring Red to justice, he was certain he was just the Penguin for the job.

And Buck intented to prove it by bringing the Russian villain in before Nigel could.

* * *

Red stared at the two Penguin Agents before him, not sure weither to be amused or outright worried. He had been on a solo mission for the Count:

He was to collect a USB Drive containing stolen information on every Penguin Agent within PMI6 and finish the Download personally before returning back to their current Base.

The Mission itself was pretty simple and it didn't take Red long to locate the Drive and finish the Download. Yet as he was about to leave, Nigel had busted into the room, demanding for Red to turn over the Drive and to surrender. And if that wasn't bad enough, Rockgut had suddenly rushed into the room making the same demand.

It didn't take a genius to figure out how slim his odds where with Two Penguin Agents catching him in the act and both demanding the same thing.

Red was certain this was it for him but to his suprise, instead of working together to bring him down, Nigel and Rockgut turned on each other with petty insults and demands that they already had Red and was going to bring him in and for the other to leave.

Pretty soon their words turned into an all out brawl between the two Penguins as Red watched, having long been forgotten.

Part of him told Red that he should break up their fight and remind the two exactly why they were there in the first place, but a larger part of him told him this was the perfect chance to make his get away. So as the two faught, Red made his way towards the room's sole window. It was only as he was seconds away from escaping did Red deciede to enlighten the two Penguins to what was going on.

_"Well,"_ Nigel and Rockgut looked up at the smooth Russian voice,_ "I have to admit, this wasn't exactly what I expected when you two showed up but if you two desire to fight each other more then me, Who am I to get in your way?"_

Red smirked as he looked down on the two, amusement dancing in his lone eye.

_"Dos Slyvania."_

With that Red was gone, leaving the two Penguins alone in the room.

* * *

It didn't take long for both to get up and rush out of the room, each blaming the other as they went their seperate way, hoping to hunt down Red before he had a chance to give the Count the USB Drive.

And before the other could find the Russian Villain.

It never occurred to the two that they would have a better chance at successfully bringing Red in if they worked together. Both were far too stubborn and determined to beat the other to the prize by bringing in the Russian on their own, that the thought of willingly working with the other never even crossed their minds.


	10. Chapter 10

Dylan started at the letter in his hand, briefly reading over it again to make sure he had read it right.

_Mr. N. Tux_

_Second Largest Bedroom_

_16 Shadow Circle_

_Tux Cottage_

_Yorkshire_

Dylan flipped the envelope over and stared at the seal for a moment before deciding to open the letter, just in case it was another trap meant to harm Nigel as it wouldn't be the first time the Lad was sent poison by a letter.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_  
_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr. Tux,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardly. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Witchcraft? Wizardly? This letter had to be a joke, either that or some cult hoping to play off the childish fantasies of children. So without a second thought Dylan tossed the letter into the fireplace and watched it burn.

* * *

_Mr. R. Sova_

_Largest Lab_

_Sova Secret Base_

_Russia_

Red narrowed his lone eye dangerously as he tore open the envelope. Someone knew his current location, something not even PMI6 knew. But that wasn't what truly bothered him.

What bothered Red was someone knowing his Last Name, something only Red and the Count should know as not even the mice knew the Mad Owl had adopted his Protégé.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_  
_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr. Sova,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardly. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Was this some idiots idea of joke? Magic didn't exist, it was scientifically impossible. Scowling, Red tossed the letter into the trash before returning his attention back to his current project.

Or at least he tried to, as Red kept finding his gaze slipping back to the innocent piece of paper sitting in the trash can. Sighing, Red picked up the paper and continued to read the rest of the letter.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY _

_ UNIFORM _

_ First-year students will require: _

_ 1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black) _

_ 2\. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear _

_ 3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar) _

_ 4\. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings) _

_ Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags _

_ COURSE BOOKS _

_ All students should have a copy of each of the following: _

_ The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk _

_ A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot _

_ Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emetic Switch _

_ One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore _

_ Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger _

_ Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander _

_ The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble _

_ OTHER EQUIPMENT _

_ wand _

_ cauldron (pewter, standard size 2) _

_ set glass or crystal phials _

_ telescope set _

_ brass scales _

_ Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad _

_ PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS_

Red couldn't help but scoff. Even if magic was real, which it wasn't, how did they expect anyone to come across such objects in Russia?

Hell, Red hadn't even heard of those books and he had a tendency to read anything he could get his hands on. Rolling his lone eye, Red tossed the letter back into the trash. His curiosity satisfied, his mind already labeling the letter as a poor prank attempt by the one of the Mice, who must have somehow found out about the adoption.

Satisfied, Red returned to his work.

* * *

_Mr. B. Rockgut_

_Room R13_

_APA Headquarters _

_America_

Buck Rockgut stared at the letter for a moment, noticing the old parchment it seemed to be written with, before carefully opening the envelope in case there was some type of poison or light-sensitive bomb inside. Instead, all he fount was more old parchment containing letter to him.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_  
_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr. Rockgut,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardly. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Buck could feel his eyebrow rise into his hairline as he reread the letter, looking for some type of secret code, but failed to find any. He held it up to the light but no watermarks or secret messages showed causing the Penguin Agent to frown. There were no Codes or Secret Message which meant only one thing:

The Letter was a prank.

And Rockgut was willing to bet anything that the British Spy, Nigel, was behind it.

Tearing the letter to pieces, Buck tossed it over his shoulder and made his way down to the Mess Hall. If Nigel wanted him to fall for a prank, then the Brit would have to try much harder or at least make it believable.

Honestly, Magic?

He knew magic didn't exist. It was just a Fairy Tale, everyone knew that.

* * *

_Minerva McGonagall frowned as she went over the response letters once more. Every letter had been responded to except three:_

_Nigel Tux of England_

_Buck Rockgut of America _

_and _

_Red von Sova of Russia_

_Sighing softly, Minerva prepared herself for a trip to visit the three wayward Wizards-to-be. _


	11. Chapter 11

Shadow Lane was located a good mile and a half from any civilization in a clearing a good half mile into a dense forest. There was no road to the house she was looking for, only a two person pathway that led up the front gate.

The house it turned out was a cozy looking cottage with white fencing and a thriving garden just visible behind the cottage that was Nigel Tux's home.

McGonagall knocked firmly on the front door and waited only a moment before the door was opened by a raven hair, hazel eyed man.

"May I help you, Ma'am?"

The man asked politely with a silky smooth British accent that sent shivers down her spine.

"My name is Minerva McGonagall. I'm a Professor sent here to speak with Nigel Tux about his Hogwarts"

Her words died instantly as she found herself staring down the business end of a .45 Caliber handgun.

* * *

It took McGonagall almost three hours for her to convince the man she now knew as Dylan Tux, that yes, Magic was real.

No, she was not part of a Cult that kidnapped or preyed on children.

Yes, his son was a wizard.

No, she was not there to kidnap him and brainwash him in hopes of using him to overthrow the Penguins…..

That last one made her pause for a moment as she stared at the man.

"What does a Penguin have to do with anything?"

Her question seemed to satisfy Dylan as the man stopped integrating her. Still she spent another hour going through his security measures before she was finally able to meet Nigel Tux.

* * *

Nigel Tux was an exotic looking child with snow white hair, which could put a Malfoy to shame, and startling emerald green eyes. The child, thankfully, wasn't as cautious as his Farther nor did he pull a muggle weapon on her.

Instead the child was an utter gentleman: Polite, well mannered, soft spoken. Yet his eyes where firm and hard in a way that reminded her of one of the Ancient Noble Lords.

Leaving no doubt in her mind that given the right reasons, despite his current Gentleman-like nature, Nigel Tux could easily become someone's worse nightmare.

* * *

Nigel watched as McGonagall vanished from his front yard with a soft 'Pop' of a protkey from his living room window. A soft smile twisted onto his lips as he stared at where the younger version of the strict professor Harry had once knew stood.

Finally, after years of waiting, he was returning to Hogwarts.

* * *

Having left Tux Cottage in a good mood, McGonagall fount herself dealing with a new issue. Which of her other future students should she visit next?

Red von Sova in some isolated area within a war torn Russia?

Or Buck Rockgut in America-The Land of the Free- where her biggest worry would be being mugged?

Was it honestly even a question?

Satisfied with her choice, she activated the button Portkey hidden within her traveling cloak causing Shadow Lane to vanish in a swirl.

Moments later she found herself in some type of Great Hall, pack with men, woman and children eating who had previously been eating lunch, standing on a table in the center of the room.

There was a momentary silence she found muggle weapons pointed at her from every angel possible.

Right then and there McGonagall decided that it was going to be a long day.


	12. Chapter 12

Minerva McGonagall had never thought she'd see the day where she actually thought a Russian was saner than an American but for the first time in ages, she had been proven wrong. After hours of being kept and integrated in a uncomfortable, much too small cell she had finally been able to talk to Buck Rockgut and his Guardian.

Unfortunately that hadn't exactly gone the way she had wished it to as both had thought her Mad and had attempted to drag her to the nearest Insane Asylum. That had obviously not gone over with the Deputy Headmistress, who had to force herself to remain calm and not curse the two Maniacs into next Century. Though it didn't stop her from turning the two into helpless Mice the moment they tried to cart her off.

It was only after she had turned them back did the two actually sit down and listen to what she had to say. After another two hours and several promises to pick the Child up was she able to leave. Though a large part of her wished she could just forget Buck Rockgut and pretend she had never met the obviously insane child.

With a soft sigh, she closed her eyes and activated the Portkey that would lead her to Russia and hopefully a much Saner future student.

* * *

Count Victor von Sova was having an surprisingly good day. His plans were coming along quite nicely for a change and none of them blasted Penguins were in sight to foil them, much to his eternal delight.

Everything was perfect for a change. Honestly he should have known something was off, nothing good every happened otherwise but he didn't.

At least, not until he returned back to his Secret Headquarters to find his Protégé sitting with a stress looking woman, drinking a bottle of Vodka together as the woman complained about Mad Americans and Trigger-Happy Brits.

Part of him complicated having the obvious intruder thrown into the Dungeon or a Holding Cell at least but disregarded such thoughts a moment later. Anyone willing to talk about Americans and The Mad Brits the way she did deserved a Round or Four on him as she obviously knew what she was talking about.

As he listened to her continue talking with his Protégé, The Count couldn't stop himself from grinning.

Finally, a woman he could get along with.

Pulling up a chair, The Count ignored Red's briefly startled look and joined in their conversation.

* * *

Magic.

If Red hadn't seen the woman preform the action he probably would have thought her Mad, not that he would have told her that, it would have been hypercritical to do so after all.

He listened to her explain everything with a subconscious ease that told him she was in a comfortable area, no doubt having done this countless times before.

Glancing over to The Count, Red could see the calculating look within those sharp golden eyes. No doubt already planning on how to use the new information to his own advantage or planning on how to study the newly discovered magic. Glancing back to the Deputy Headmistress, Red put the Count's plotting out of his mind.

He would no doubt have to listen to the Count's plans and plots later and honestly didn't wish to bother with it right then and there. He also didn't believe it'd be very wise for the Count to start one of his rants in front of McGonagall, despite the woman's obvious distress over American and British behavior, Red had the feeling the woman was a very morally balanced and righteous.

* * *

The Count waited for the woman-Minerva McGonagall- to disappear from her spot with the help of a bottle cap- changed into a Portkey according to her- before allowing a smirk to filter onto his face.

Magic.

That was something he had never expected to hear, he had always believed it a Fairy tale but now he knew it wasn't and very much desired to study it on a much closer cellular level.

Sadly that would have to wait as they only person he currently knew with such abilities was his Protégé and he had no intention of dissecting Red for mild curiously. Though he doubted he would have to wait long once Red got to that boarding school and fount someone he truly despised.

Still that didn't mean he was going to sit around and just wait. The woman had spoken of another issue with Magic that had caught his attention and he fully intended to fix it before Red went off:

Magic's effect on Electronics thanks to the EM Waves it produced.

It explained a lot really, when he had first _acquired_ Red the other had been unable to go into his labs due to the computer and other devices blowing up or refusing to work about him. After much work, The Count had been able to create a device that admitted a barrier or shield that blocked out the EM Waves and installed it within every room with electronics.

But now he would have to find a way of building a smaller version of he device so he could implant it into Red's laptop as he refused to send his Adopted Child and Protégé off without having a sure and untraceable way of Red getting into contact with him.

The Count's smirk grew as he looked to his Protégé, who's back was to him as the other cleaned up.

* * *

Red couldn't stop a shiver from racing down his spine as he felt the Count's gaze on him. For some reason he had the feeling he was about to be dragged into another long night in the Labs with the Count. That would no doubt be the cause of more headaches and sleepless nights to come.

He was proven right only moments later when the Count grabbed him by the back of his shirt and proceed to drag him out of the room despite his protest on leaving dirty silverware and glasses behind.

"Leave it, Red. I'll send the mice to finish cleaning up. We have work to do."

Red slumped slightly in the Count's grip for a moment, sighing softly, as the other easily dragged him in the direction of the Count's Personal **-**_Go In and I Will Devour You For A Mid Day Snack_**\- **Lab.

He hated when he was right.


	13. Chapter 13

Diagon Alley was just as Nigel remembered it, overstuffed with vendors and merchants selling overpriced merchandise. Something he had never realized as Harry and only thanks to his Adoptive Farther did he now understand the Highway Robbery he went through as Harry.

Every single one of them were eager to strip as many Gallons, Sickles or Kunts they possible could from unexpected newcomers. Though Nigel had a well thought out plan to prevent himself from becoming another victims of their greed.

Steeling himself, Nigel Tux entered The Wizarding World once more.

* * *

Gringotts was exactly as Nigel remembered it. The large white marble building reflected in the early morning sunlight as the stone steps gleamed as if recently polished.

It's well famous trademark warning was neatly inscripted into its heavy bronze door, looking in a much better condition then the last time Harry had seen the sort poem.

A fond smile fount its way to Nigel's lips as he gently traced his fingers over the words:

_**Enter, stranger, but take heed**_

_**Of what awaits the sin of greed**_

_**For those who take, but do not earn,**_

_**Must pay most dearly in their turn.**_

_**So if you seek beneath our floors**_

_**A treasure that was never yours,**_

_**Thief, you have been warned, beware**_

_**Of finding more than treasure there.**_

A small part of him couldn't help but be relieved that some things had remained the same despite the distance of time. Straightening himself, Nigel first pushed open the heavy bronze doors then the solid silver ones before entering the bank.

* * *

Nigel was practically gleaming as he exited the Bank with an unlimited pouch of money within his pockets.

Mentally he sent his best wishes and luck to Harry's bushy hair friend, where or when ever she may be. He really owed Hermione big for having forced Harry to look at his Family Tree at least once despite Ron's many protest about it being too much work.

It was only thanks to her insistence the he had known he was a realities of Ignotus Peverell and could claim the man's vault as his own.

It had been a gamble, there was no telling how The Veil or his Blood Adoption had changed his blood and then there had been the chance of another having claimed the vault but thankfully no one had been able to and his plan come through perfectly.

Smiling Nigel set out for the upcoming years school supplies with a slight spring to his step.

* * *

Red stared blankly at the Inherence Test the Count had ordered for him from the Goblins- _'The Best of the Best in Business'_ or so McGonagall claimed. Though the more Red stared at the paper the more his doubt grew.

Who the Hell was_ Morgan Le Fay_?

Folding the paper, Red slipped it into his breast pocket. He had no idea who the woman was but for some reason something told him he really shouldn't mention her near McGonagall or anyone besides The Count for that matter.

Being as curt and polite as possible,Red collected a pouch of golden and silver coins before leaving the bank all together. Not long after McGonagall parted way, briefly informing him of the room The Count was waiting for him in at The Leaky Couldren.

Seeing no point in sticking around, Red made his way towards a book store that had caught his eye on the way in.

* * *

The Hogwarts Express was just as the Harry part of Nigel remembered it to be:

Crowded and full of both new and old students eagerly awaiting to set out on their way for what would soon become their second home:

Hogwarts Castle itself.

_Home. _

* * *

Instead of standing in the middle of an aisle looking around in a not so subtitle shock like the First-Years-To-Be, Nigel made his way down the aisles, looking for a compartment that wasn't too crowded or full of Slytherins.

It was easier said then done. He was nearing the last few compartments and he still yet to find one suitable for his tastes. He reached out to open the last compartment door when an all too familiar voice spoke up from behind him.

"Nancy Cat? That you?"

His hand froze centimeters from the door's handle, he knew that insufferable nickname and the one insufferable person on this planet that would dare him by it.

Slowly he turned his head to the side to glance behind him at the one person he _**never** _expected to see aboard the Hogwarts Express:

Buck Rockgut, the inferable American Penguin, who kept trying to make Nigel quiet being a Penguin and a Spy.

_Could this day get any worse?_

As if to mock him the compartment door he had been reaching for slid open and a familiar golden eye met his before glancing to the American next to him.


	14. Chapter 14

_As if to mock him the compartment door he had been reaching for slid open and a familiar golden eye met his before glancing to the American next to him._

For a brief moment silence consumed the three before Rockgut shared a look with Nigel and both grabbed the Russian by his arms, forcing him back into the compartment. Once inside, Rockgut slammed the door shut with a bit more force then necessary and locked it while Nigel shoved the Russian back into his seat.

Finally two sets of eye- one crimson and one emerald- locked onto the irritated looking figure of their Arch Nenemsis, The Red Squirrel.

"What are _**you**_ doing here?"

Rockgut managed to bite out, making the '_you_' sound like the worst possible curse Nigel had ever hear, in both his lives.

Red didn't seem affected by it in the least as his lone eye was already half lidded in boredom and his tone had gained an '_I'm talking to an idiot' _vibe to it.

"I would assume the same reason you are."

* * *

How the Russian managed to stay so calm and collected while trapped in this small compartment with both himself and Rockgut was beyond Nigel. If it had been him when he was Harry, he no doubt would have paniced and tried to find an escape. Yet Red didn't seem the least bit worried as he managaed to take control of Rockgut's '_intergation'_ with a startling ease.

**"Enough!"**

Nigel finally spoke up, putting a stop to Red running circles around the American with his words, causing Red to shot him a look but the Russan finally stopped convincing Rockgut that _**he **_was actaully the villain and not Red.

Mentally Nigel made a note to keep an eye out for Red's silvertounge in the upcoming years.

With Red's _'fun'_ cut short, a silence consumed the compartment as the Russian stared out his window and Rockgut glared threateningly at said Russsain, who was ingoring him with well praticed ease.

* * *

Honestly, Red had been enjoying the train ride before Nigel and Rockgut had shown. He had even enjoyed it a bit after they had shown by messing with the American's head. But Nigel, being the self righteous Penguin he was, had stomped out Red's fun and neither would allow him to leave the compartment. Instead they were chosing to keep a close eye on him and Red fount himself quickly growing bored.

Casually placing his hand into his pocket, Red gently ran his fingers over the small prank he had bought at a Zonko's Joke Shop. It garanteed a good laugh and Red was bored enough so why not?

Hiding a smirk, Red carefully removed the cork from the vial while it was still within his pocket before smiling at the two Penguins across from him causing both to eye him suspiciously. Not even a moment later, Red tossed the vial containing a Rose Pink liquid at the two.

Right before smoke filled the compartment, Red had the pliverage of witinessing both their eyes widen in fear.

* * *

_**"RED! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU!"**_

_**"NOT IF I GET HIM FIRST NANCY CAT!"**_

A part of Red knew he should be at least a bit worried or at least stop crackling while he ran from the two enraged Agents but he just couldn't.

It was hard to feel threatened when being chased by a white hair eleven year old males one wearing a lovely emerald satin dress, three inch heels and full make up with jewerly. While the other wore a black corset with a maroon skirt, pearls, high heels and makeup.

"Oh come on _Ladies_, you look pretty. I can actually tell you're _both woman_ now."

Red barely managed to get the words past his laughter and was rewarded with twin snarls and death threats being shouted at his back. Deciding staying in the aisle wasn't heathly for him or any future children he may or may not desire, Red darted into the nearest compartment available.


	15. Chapter 15

**917brat,**

**Yes, Nigel is currently eleven. Nigel was Nine is Chapter Eight. Although I will admit I temporary published a typo that had him as Fifteen before The Nancy Cat and Squirrel pointed out the time flux error. I considered making it so they stared Hogwarts in their later teen years due to the three of them spending most of their childhood years in hiding (Red) or at their Agency (Nigel and Rockgut) but decided to start from younger years. I hope this clears up your confusion Cupcake. My sincerest apologizes for causing them in the first place. **

_**BuckRockgut**_

* * *

Honestly Red expected some type of retribution from the two Penguins but this was ridiculous.  
He could understand them carrying handcuffs, they were Agents and any Agent worth their salt carried at least a pair, but why where they carrying a collar and a gag.

Feeling the train finally pull to a stop, Red proceeded to glare at his two Arch Nemeses, daring them to even consider leaving him tussled up like this.

Noticing the glare, Buck sighed softly as he glanced to the amused looking Spy next to him.

"Do we **_have_ **to free him? Can't we just keep him like this?"

An amused glint entered Nigel's emerald eyes, something Red did not fail to see causing his glare to sharpen on the British Agent.

Finally Nigel spoke up, hum our lacing the undertone of his voice.

"Only if you wish to be the one to explain it."

* * *

Nigel knew Red was most likely in a bad mood especially after the collar and gag incident -Why was Rockgut carrying those anyway?- the Death Glare the Russian was sending the two of them as they Shepard him onto a boat with them was proof enough.

Or maybe he just didn't want to be near them?

Both were quiet possible, seeing as the Russian never seemed to want to be near them from the start.

Nigel's pondering was cut short as the boats lurched forward and out into the open water. A small part of him noticed how Red had stiffened once the boat started moving from land and made a mental note of it but his focus was soon dragged away from his Nemesis as dim orange-ish-yellow lights became visible though the fog.

Moments later by a large castle and stone bridge emerged from the darkness, just barely visible in the silver moonlight.

_Hogwarts._

Finally, he was home.

* * *

Hogwarts wasn't what Red was expecting. A childish part of him, that he never seemed capable of squashing had been expecting something exotic, one of a kind. Yet as he stared at the castle he couldn't help but feel a bit cheated.

To him it was just another gloomy castle, something he was far too used to seeing from living in Russia. He had honestly seen better constructed castles in the winter wonderland that was his home.  
It was slightly disappointing actually. He could only hope that the inside had something more interesting waiting for them then the outside did.

After all wasn't there a saying: Don't judge a book by its cover?

* * *

Hogwarts was...

Interesting and different to Buck Rockgut.

It wasn't like his home in the APA Headquarters or that one Base his Mentor had set up in Russia.

For one, it was much bigger and much more gloomy looking. Still despite the gloominess, the castle itself seemed to emit an aura about it that reminded him of Home.

Still that didn't mean he would lower his guard, epically not with Red near by. There was no telling what sort of schemes that Mad Squirrel would come up with while here.

He would need to be ready for anything now that magic- of all things- was evolved.

Crimson eyes glanced to the emotionless looking Russian as they entered the waiting hall, full of a confident resolve.

He _**would** _be ready. No matter what it took, he refused to allow Red to win.

Not now, not even.


	16. Chapter 16- Sorting

_**In times of old, when I was new,**_  
_**And Hogwarts barely started,**_  
_**The founders of our noble school**_  
_**Thought never to be parted. **_

_**United by a common goal,**_  
_**They had the selfsame yearning**_  
_**To make the world's best magic school**_  
_**And pass along their learning.**_

_**"Together we will build and teach"**_  
_**The four good friends decided.**_  
_**And never did they dream that they**_  
_**Might some day be divided.**_

_**For were there such friends anywhere**_  
_**As Slytherin and Gryffindor?**_  
_**Unless it was the second pair**_  
_**Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw,**_

_**So how could it have gone so wrong?**_  
_**How could such friendships fail?**_  
_**Why, I was there, so I can tell**_  
_**The whole sad, sorry tale. **_

_**Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those**_  
_**Whose ancestry's purest."**_  
_**Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those whose**_  
_**Intelligence is surest."**_

_**Said Gryffindor, "We'll teach all those**_  
_**With brave deeds to their name."**_  
_**Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot**_  
_**And treat them just the same."**_

_**These differences caused little strife**_  
_**When first they came to light.**_  
_**For each of the four founders had**_  
_**A house in which they might**_

_**Take only those they wanted, so,**_  
_**For instance, Slytherin**_  
_**Took only pure-blood wizards**_  
_**Of great cunning just like him.**_

_**And only those of sharpest mind**_  
_**Were taught by Ravenclaw**_  
_**While the bravest and the boldest**_  
_**Went to daring Gryffindor. **_

_**Now slip me snug about your ears,**_  
_**I've never yet been wrong,**_  
_**I'll have a look inside your mind**_  
_**And tell where you belong!**_

A small smile twisted onto Nigel's lips as he started past the crowded at the ragged old hat waiting on the stool next to the current Deputy Headmaster, who seemed to be none other then a younger Albus Dumbledore.

The Harry part of Nigel was pleased to see the man he once considered a Grandfather once more but the Nigel part of him couldn't help but question all the man's intents from when it had been Harry. It had not been natural for a Headmaster to hold so much power and control over a student like Dumbledore once had over Harry. Harry had never been suspicious of the man or his motives but Nigel wasn't Harry anymore. He was a Tux and no Tux believed in coincidences.

"Clara Abbott."

Pushing aside his suspicion, Nigel tried to focus on what was currently the most important issue:

The Sorting.

* * *

A talking hat.

Well it defiantly wasn't something you saw everyday, Red was forced to admit as he watched _**another**_ Black be sorted into Slytherin.

How many Blacks where there?

And better yet, How exactly did that hat work?

His hand twitched slightly at his side as the Scientist part of him wanted nothing more then to march up there and take the current object holding his attention.

"Abraxas Malfoy."

He wanted to dissect the hat to figure out exactly what spell or enchantments helped it to function. Maybe even send it back home to the Count so the older had something new to work on in his lab.

Still, he couldn't just take it not in front of all these witnesses at least.

"Minerva McGonagall."

Red also had no doubt that if the hat did disappear Rockgut and Nigel would automatically know it was him.

Mentally sighing Red supposed he could put off stealing the hat. The Count would most likely want a Wizard or Witch for his experiments anyway.

A lone golden eye glances around the Great Hall in wonder.

_Which of these idiots was going to make an enemy out of him first?_

* * *

"Tom Riddle."

Nigel felt himself freeze as the boy who would become Voldemort, the Darkest Wizard of All Time, make his way toward the fount of the Crowd before having the hat placed on his head.

It didn't stay there for long though as only moments passed before the hat screamed out Riddle's new yet old House:

**"Slytherin!"**

Reality finally seemed to settle in on Nigel once Riddle sat down. Not only was he going to school with Red but with Tom Riddle, Lord Voldemort.

...

...

Fuck. Someone up there was defiantly screwing with him.

* * *

"Buck Rockgut."

Said American straightened out the moment he heard his name and began to make his way towards the stool, all too aware of multiple sets of eyes following his every movement. Though in all honestly only two sets of those eyes mattered in the least to him:

The emerald set that momentarily locked with his before being blocked by the raggedy Sorting Hat and the lone golden eye watching him like a hawk.

_Aren't you an interesting one? _

Instantly Buck felt his back straighten as his mind worked out exactly where the voice was coming from.

The Sorting Hat. He had only suspected it to be a talking hat as briefly mentioned in _Hogwarts: A History_, but they forgot to mention it was a fucking mind reader as well.

_Interesting... You're quite the loyal yet just as brave. You would do well in both Gryffindor and Hufflepuff and both would be proud to have you though only one house can be chosen so it better be..._

**"Hufflepuff!"**

* * *

Special Agent Buck Rockgut- The Hufflepuff.

The very idea made Nigel uncertain whether he wanted to start laughing or praying for the unfortunate Puffs who where now Rockgut's House Mates. One thing he knew for certain though was that the Hufflepuff house would never be the same once Rockgut dug his claws into it.

"Red von Sova!"

Nigel and Rockgut's head snapped up as the Mad Russian made his way to the stool with utter grace that came from being a predator within a flock of lambs.

Briefly Red met their eyes and smirked before the Sorting Hat covered the lone golden eye from sight.

* * *

_Interesting.. Very Interesting..._

A mind reading hat?

Red couldn't help but agree with the hat, it was quite interesting. Almost interesting enough to mention in a letter back to the Count.

_You are quiet a paradox, if I do say so myself. _

_Loyal to those you believe deserve it._

_ Brave but only when you believe the cause of such bravery to be worth it. _

_You have Ambition in Spades._

_ Cunning when the matter calls for it. _

_Your intelligence and need to know is no laughing matter either. _

_Such a complex child, though it shouldn't be surprising seeing who your Farther is. Who ever thought it was a good idea to let that man rais-_

_'Would you just sort me already? If I wanted someone to criticize my Father's parenting methods I would have called those pesky Penguins.'_

Red growled lowly at the Sorting Hat causing it to shift nervously on his head.

_Of course. Now lets see. ..._

_Though loyal Hufflepuff would not survive the month with both you and Rockgut inside its door. _

_Gryffindor is defiantly not for you. You are not one to tolerate stupidity therefore their foolish acts and attitudes would no doubt see them killed by sundown. _

_Slytherin would have loved to have you within his house though you would most likely kill your house mates by the end of the week._

_Ravenclaws are well known to be Mad. Though I wonder how they will learn to handle your Madness? _

**"Ravenclaw!"**

Red couldn't help but give a light smirk as he slipped off the hat and made his way to what would be his new House for the next seven years.

* * *

"Nigel Tux!"

Taking a breath to steady himself, Nigel made his way to the front and allowed Dumbledore to place the Sorting Hat on his head.

_A Time Traveler, now this is quite a surprise. Welcome back to Hogwarts Harry Potter or do you prefer Nigel Tux?_

_'Nigel if you don't mind. Harry Potter has been dead for quite some time and personally would prefer to leave him dead.'_

_Ah yes, I understand. Though your Dark Lord has probably laughed himself to death at the news or your 'Death'. I can see the Headlines now: _

_Harry Potter: Killed by Drapery._

Nigel couldn't help but blush softly at the no doubt embarrassing way Harry Potter had died.

_Now lets see. You're no longer the Gryffindor you used to be and I still believe you would do well in Slytherin-_

_'Ravenclaw. I need to be in Ravenclaw.'_

_And why is that? You do have quite the mind for it, though I do not see the usually Ravenclaw Madness within you._

_'Someone has to watch Red and ensure he doesn't snap enough to kill everyone. Leave him alone there and those Ravenclaw will wind up dead in their sleep. I need to be close by to keep an eye on him.'_

_I see... Though i have to wonder are you sure __**that**__ is why you want to be close to him and not for another reason? A more __**personal **__reason?_

_Nigel sputtered softly and was about to respond- to deny the Sorting Hat's acquisition- when the hat spoke up. _

**"Ravenclaw!"**

_Best of luck, Nigel Tux._

Giving the Hat a mental 'Thank You' Nigel slipped it off and made his way to the Ravenclaw table, taking the free seat on Red's right.


	17. Chapter 17

Growing up a Pure Blood, Abraxas Malfoy had been taught he was owed the world.

He was a High-class Elite much better then those lowly Half-Bloods and Mudbloods that tainted his heritage by daring to be born with it. Like a blind man he had believed every word he was told without question or thought.

That was until he had meet the Slytherin Half-blood, Tom Riddle, and a golden eye Ravenclaw of questionable heritage and another Ravenclaw with hair Whiter than his own.

There was something...Off about the three of them.

* * *

Despite finally realizing magic- his logic still protested calling it such- was real, Red was not enjoying himself and the reason for his aggravation was currently sitting to his left, watching him like a hawk.

Red had barely slept the night before, unable to relax with those emerald eyes watching his every breath a part of him silently raged at the British Agent- What the Hell did he expect Red to do with such short time to prepare anyway?- that refused to give him a moments peace.

The only bright side to his day was the fact Rockgut couldn't join the Brit in making his morning a living Hell- Thank God for small blessings- though Red had no doubts that the American would hunt him down later

Glancing at his Schedule, Red gathered his bag and left the Great Hall ten minutes early so he could locate the rooms which his classes would be held.

He pretended not to feel the eyes following his every step.

* * *

It was good to be home.

Though Nigel had to admit he felt a bit strange being a RavenClaw rather then a Gryffindor. Everything was different:

Blue and Grey instead of Red and Gold.

Intelligence, Creativity, Learning, and Wit was valued over Courage, Bravery, Nerve, and Chivalry.

An Eagle instead of a Lion.

Even the Bedrooms where different. In Gryffindor all the boys had shared a dorm with their Year Mates. In Ravenclaw there was more privacy allowing only two to a dorm- he had quickly followed Red to the Russian's chosen dorm that was a bit further isolated from the others then it needed to be.

Still the Spy was determined to make this work.

He had too.

* * *

Tom Riddle mentally sneered as he half listened to the unless conversations being carried around him with a mild annoyance.

All morning his fellow Slytherins had sneered and jabbed at him with their 'Holier then Thou' attitudes and it was slowly but surely grating on his nerves. Thankfully he had more self control then the Inbred Dunderheads surrounding him.

Allowing his eyes to roam over the rom, Tom mentally started to label who looked useful to him and who was disposable.

Rubeus Hagrid , a Half-Giant Gryffindor, probably an animal lover and a Charity Case to help with Dippet's public image- Useless.

Abraxas Malfoy, a Pure Blood Slytherin, most likely will follow his family's lead into politics and has the necessary connections for it-Useful.

Minerva McGonagall, a Pure Blood Gryffindor, looks up to Dumbledore who doesn't trust him- Useless.

Buck Rockgut, a Hufflepuff of unknown heritage with a curious shade of eyes, Cautious judging from the way he keeps glancing around. Possibly dangerous- Unknown.

Finally Riddle allowed his eyes to drift towards the Ravenclaw table.

Myrtle Warren, a Half Blood Ravenclaw, Likes attention and complaining to others about her problems- She was already doing it and they had yet to be here for a whole day- Useless.

A strange sense of familiarness ran down Tom's spine as his eyes landed on the next Ravenclaw.

Nigel Tux, Ravenclaw with unknown heritage, Observant. Possibly Dangerous. - Unknown.

And then there was that _**one**_.

Red Sova, another Ravenclaw of Unknown heritage. Observant, Cautious, Isolated, Dangerous. Riddle wasn't an idiot, he knew a threat when he saw it and noticed the way both Tux and Rockgut watched the rouge haired. The other walked liked a predator that knew it was among prey, much like he had done back at the orphanage- Possibly Useful- if he played his cards right.

After a moment he noticed the rouge hair child stand before leaving the Great Hall ten minutes before breakfast was over. Not even two minutes later, Rockgut and Tux stood and followed suit.

There was something off about those three.


	18. Chapter 18

Red hated being followed, which was -strangely- quite rational in his mind seeing as everybody and their Mothers seemed to be after him. What he hated more though was being followed by an amateur who didn't even know how to do the job properly.

It couldn't possibly be Nigel or Rockgut, neither of the two where stupid enough to follow him within his hearing distance so it had to be another student.

Which left him with the question on why another student would possibly be following him- he wasn't exactly very friendly and didn't usually go out of his way to make friends.

Rounding the corner, Red pressed himself to the wall allowing his elder wood wand to slip from his sleeve into his waiting grasp.

Three...

Two..

One.

* * *

Abraxas Malfoy was missing.

Nigel frowned to himself as he listened to Headmaster Dippet's speech.

Apparently the teacher had kept the Malfoy Heir's disappearance to theirselves, believing the boy lost somewhere within the Castle's Maze of a Dungeon, while trying to locate the Slytherin.

A week and still no sign of the Malfoy Heir. There was no doubt in Nigel's mind that if they hadn't fount the Slytherin by then that they most likely wouldn't.

And his instincts firmly told him the boy wasn't lost- No Slytherin was stupid enough to get lost in their own domain- like the teachers suspected but rather it had a bit more to do with the pleased looking Russian sitting across from him.

* * *

The last thing Abraxas Malfoy remembered was following the rouge hair Ravenclaw around a corner and a flash of crimson light.

The first thing he noticed upon waking was that he was no longer at Hogwarts and for some reason was laying, only in his boxers, on a steel table. Confused and believing himself dreaming he tried to rub his eyes as to banish the sleep...

Only he couldn't.

For some reason his wrists where strapped down onto the steel table. Never had he woken so fast as he did then, panicking he tugged on the restraints trying to free himself of them.

He was far too busy panicking to notice let alone hear the monitor next to him start beeping louder until it matched his heart beat. Though he did notice when a pair of sharp golden eyes- so much like that Ravenclaw's- stared down into his.

Freezing, he stared up at the silver haired man with a sense of dread feeling him as his every instinct screamed _'Danger' _and for him to run.

Only he couldn't.

He was trapped to this cold, hard table with the man, that had every fiber of him suddenly feeling as terrified as a sheep before a wolf, standing over him.

* * *

Red wasn't very surprised that Nigel managed to corner him within their dorm, though he was slightly startled when the American suddenly busted into their room, grabbed him by the front of his robe and slammed him into the wall.

"Where is he, Squirrel?!"

Mentally a part of the younger wondered exactly how Rockgut had managed to get into their room but quickly brushed it off. The only security they truly had was a riddle- once answered correctly the portrait would grant access- after all.

"Who?"

Red questioned innocently even though he was anything but. He knew exactly how but it didn't mean he wouldn't screw with them a bit.

* * *

Pain.

It was the only thing Abraxas truly knew here. The man, who called himself: The Count, was Mad.

Everyday from Seven AM till Eight PM Abraxas was left to the Mad Man's _'Tender'_ Mercy. The man had already cut him open three times while trying to figure out his magic worked and affected his body.

Sometimes, while he worked, the Count would talk about his Protégé and compare Abraxas to him. It took him a couple of days to realize the Ravenclaw who he had been stalking was the Mad Man's Protégé.

When he was done, The Count would heal Abraxas so not a scar remained before putting a tube down his throat that force feed him.

It was only after Nine every night that he was left alone on that cold table until the next morning before the cycle repeated.

* * *

"I sent him back home to The Count."

Red finally admitted after two straight hours of dealing with Rockgut and Tux constant integrations- cough annoyances cough. Hearing the two groan in what was a mixture of agony and self disappointment mostly made up for their constant invasion of both his personal space and time.

Carefully peeling the American's fingers from his shirt, Red dropped onto his feet and easily brushed past the two. Sitting on the edge of his bed, the Russian watched as Rockgut and Nigel rush around in a mild panic with clear amusement visible in his lone eye. What could he say, he quite enjoyed getting under their skin but _for now_ his game was over.

It was fun while it lasted though and Red had no doubt Abraxas would think twice before trying to stalk him again.

Either that or he would get another surprise visit to The Count's.


	19. Chapter 19

Tom Riddle fount himself feeling utterly displeased as he stared at the wide eyed trembling Malfoy before him.

A week ago he had asked the other to form a 'connection' with the rouge hair Ravenclaw only for the boy to vanish into thin air that very day. For a week no one had been able to find him but then Buck Rockgut, had arrived at the Medical Wing supporting the young Malfoy who had been in a delusional state.

The young Malfoy Heir had kept mumbling to himself and started screaming and kicking the nurse had tried to so much as touch. He had cling to the Insane Hufflepuff as if the other was a lifeline and refused to let go despite how many of their professors tried to pull him away.

It had taken them a solid week of constant trail and error before Abraxas had finally stopped clinging to the Hufflepuff and gathered enough wits to stay close to Tom instead. Still when anyone asked what had terrified the Slytherin so throughly, Abraxas' refused to say.

Not even to Tom, who tried to intergate the young Heir in the safety of their room. All he reaslly knew was that Abraxas hadn't been able to form the 'Connection' Tom had wanted and that the rouge hair Ravenclaw more then likely had played a hand in the disappearacne of the other Slytherin- Why else would Abraxas be so terrified of the other? How and Why was something Tom still couldn't figure out.

* * *

Abraxas didn't want to admit it but he knew if nothing else he was terrified of anyone with the surname of Sova after his... experience with Lord Sova- after all no one else but a Noble Lord of an Dark and Ancient House could possibly had done all the things the golden eyed man had done without even a shred of guilt or mercy.

It was because of this fear that he had stayed so close to the Insane Hufflepuff- Who obviously had to be from a Neutral family- who's father had rescued him. The Ravenclaw, Red, Seemed to stay away from the Hufflepuff if he was able and therefore made the other a perfect place to stay. He was safe as long as he stayed with the Hufflepuff.

It was ridiculous, he knew that. A Slytherin hiding behind a Hufflepuff- oh how shamed his forefathers would be- but Abraxas didn't care. Better to be shamed and alive then honored and back on that's monstrosity's table or worse: Venerable to it's spawn. After a week an firm talking to from the Hufflepuff- Buck- Abraxas knew he could no longer hide.

So he had gathered what little bit of courage he had and fount himself back with his own comrades and Tom. Though when anyone tried to get answers from him he would suffer a small breakdown like he had done with Tom, even though they were in the safety of the Slytherin Dorm and their room.

He couldn't find it in himself to talk about it so the Slytherin House had come to an agreement to never mention it. Though Abraxas could still hear the whispered rumors and theories. And to make matters worse, Tom still wanted to form a connection to the monster known as Red von Sova.

* * *

Classes were just as the Harry part of Nigel remembered them:

Long and boring- especially History. Even when he was alive Binns could put anyone to sleep with his droning about Goblin Wars- Nigel was beginning to wonder if that was the only thing the man actually knew about.

The scientific proof of his theory was slumped over right next to him. Red, the one person he knew could stay awake and find any dusty boring lecture interesting, was currently dozing away using Rockgut's back as a pillow. Said Penguin was also fast asleep using his arms as a pillow despite his relentless training from the American's.

Oh what a sad day this was but he had to admit sleep didn't sound so bad compared to the torture that was History Class. Making a quick decision- There was no way in Hell he was going to suffer through another minute of this torture alone- Nigel rested his head on the Russian's back and allowed himself to drift off into sleep.


	20. Chapter 20

"You don't celebrate Christmas?"

The clear disbelief was visible in Rockgut's voice, as he stared across the Ravenclaw table at his Russian Foe.

"Is there something wrong with that?"

A defensive tone had entered the other's otherwise neutral voice and Nigel knew if this kept he would have to intervene soon least the two suddenly decided to have an all out brawl in the middle of the Great Hall.

"The nothing right about you to be wrong with. I knew you Russians were Mad but how can you _not_ celebrate Christmas?"

A soft sigh left the spy as he noticed the Red's good eye twitch slightly, a sure sign that if he didn't step in now there would be blood spilled before anyone even realized what happened.

"That's because theirs is more of a New Years Celebration. Christmas in Russia isn't called Christmas but rather Е́же по пло́ти Рождество Господа Бога и Спа́са нашего Иисуса Христа which is held on January 7 instead of December 25."

Looking up the spy noticed the brief look of surprise on Rockgut's face before it morphed into a curious one.

"An how do you know that?"

Rolling his eyes at the slightly accusing tone and certain he didn't want to know what conspiracies his paranoid counterpart was mostly coming up with, Nigel settled giving him a blunt answer.

"To understand someone its best to understand their culture and how they think."

Thinking it best, Nigel chose not to tell either the American or the Russian that he still wasn't any closer to figuring out the Russian's mind then when he ha started. They where too many twists and turns, far too many that lead him either to countless dead ends or more questions to figure out then the few he had when he had first started.

Rockgut gave a nod of approval before taking another bite out of his steak while Red just pushed around his food on his plate with that everlasting scowl in place.

* * *

Red didn't understand Christmas, it seemed so simple yet so Complexed: You gave and You Got but then there was this guy in a red suit that was apparently _**always** _watching. Santa Claus if he wasn't mistaken.

The more Red heard about the man with the flying reindeer- how was that even possible?- the more he was reminded of a criminal. Breaking into others homes and taking just as much as he gave- The Milk and Cookies were probably a bribe to keep the man from stealing children from their parents.

And then there was this Krumpus figure, who was apparently Santa's counterpart. A horned figure that punished, kidnapped and sometimes even ate naughty children- the more Red heard the more he was reminded of the demons in the stories he had read. The fact that he worked with this 'Santa' only made the Russian a bit more paranoid and curious as to why anyone would celebrate a holiday allowed a stranger and a demon into their homes?

"Don't you ever sleep?"

The voice instantly brought the Russian from his thoughts as he glanced over from his spot at he widow to his not so welcomed roommate.

"Thinking."

"About?"

"Why you're so nosy."

Red deadpanned but Nigel had a good feeling that the subject really wasn't what was currently bothering the Russian. Maybe the other was homesick, if that was even possible when you only had a being like the Count and his Mice waiting at whatever base you were currently calling home for you.

Well now that he thought about it that definitely wasn't it.

"You know it doesn't hurt to tell others what's bothering you."

"It also doesn't hurt to throw you out the widow."

"You wouldn't."

A lone golden eye flashed.

* * *

He had definitely lost that battle. Nigel sighed softly as he stared at the bundled form buried underneath his bed's covers.

Maybe he should have taken a clue and backed off but he had hoped to try to open the Russian up a bit. Yet his pride hadn't let him and he had once again fount himself hanging out of a widow with a good ten story drop. Though it was probably a good thing the widow had been open so no one came to investigate when Red had thrown him out it. This really would have been difficult to explain.

Mentally grumbling at his own stupidity-what was he thinking telling someone like Red they wouldn't do something? It only made them want to do it more- Nigel pulled himself into the room and crawled back into his bed.

This was going to be a long year unless he watched his words and fount a way of co-existing with the Russian who was currently foreign sleep. Emerald eyes slid close as the young spy decided to foreign his own as his mind pondered what to do, not only with Red and Rockgut but Riddle- who had been showing far too much interest in them- as well.


	21. Chapter 21

Christmas couldn't come around fast enough for Nigel and though he was half tempted to remain within the school for the holiday he knew that this time he couldn't. For Nigel had something Harry never did, a Father, a family that loved him and actually wanted him to return home.

It was a nice feeling really, something he fount himself quite enjoying. Though that didn't mean he wasn't a bit concerned, at least until he learned that Red and Rockgut would also be going home. He really didn't want to leave those two alone at the school with only each other for company. The castle would be completely annihilated by time the holidays were over if he did. Everything was going perfectly for a change, something that had rarely happened considering his line of work.

Too bad things were never quite that simple for him.

* * *

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Deputy Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardly, was not having a good day. It had started out with the begging of the last Heir of Slytherin to stay at the castle over the holiday, so as not to return to his orphanage. Something Albus had quickly shot down with a small white lie about how no one else would be staying-not even the Professors- and he couldn't stay here alone.

Then it had moved on to another complex problem: Getting the Russian Ravenclaw, Red von Sova, to stay.

Unlike Tom Riddle the Russian with a look in his eye that reminded him of a young and angry Gellert Grindelwald, wasn't such an easy case to deal with. The child actually had a family and not an orphanage who's Matron didn't care waiting for him. And he couldn't force the child to stay, let alone tell anyone the reason he wanted the Ravenclaw to stay. They would all believe him paranoid or over reacting.

He had made sight suggestions about staying over the months after his almost heart attack at the fact he would be teaching not one but two Grindelwald like students, but none swayed the child. The Russian was still determined to return to 'Mother Russia' and his family. So he had waited a month before telling another white lie.

He had informed the child he had received an eye staying that his father was called away on a sudden and unexpected business trip while requesting permission for his child to be allowed to stay at Hogwarts over the holidays. The Ravenclaw seemed to accept it and the rouge hair child never sent out an owl. Everything was going perfectly for a change.

Until Victor von Sova arrived at Hogwarts with two other men, Dylan Tux and Jethro Rockgut.

* * *

If Red von Sova was a Mini Grindelwald in the making, Victor von Sova was the Devil himself.

Pale skin and eyes that glowed with a predatory gleam and promised suffering unlike any before though possible. His words flowed like a gently river and as soft as velvet when speaking to his child yet were as icy as a glacier and harsh as a unstoppable blizzard as he metaphorically chewed Dumbledore to pieces before spatting him out just to stomp the wizard into the dirt.

Few could understand what exactly the man was saying causing many to look to the only Russian they knew. Unfortunately Red seemed far to amused watching his father tear into the Deputy Headmaster to bother translating.

Those that did understand were blushing like school girls over their crush and refused to translate saying 'Maybe when you're older'.

* * *

Red had to be honestly, he was utterly amused watching The Count tear into Dumbles with a vengeance usually reserved for the Penguins and their Agencies. The Mad Owl could make a sailor blush like a schoolgirl with his choice of words but Red had been expecting and counting on it when he had contacted the elder using his laptop since he had a feeling owls would be watched.

Who did Dumbledore think he was fooling when he had told Red the Count had Owled him a letter? If anything The Count would have sent an Email instead of forcing another avian to fly that far just for a scrap of paper. What did he take Red for, an idiot?

He wasn't very surprised when the Count looked his way and ordered him to go pack. That since he was there already he might as well take Red home so he didn't 'disappear' from the train. His not so subtle acquisition ringing loud and clear for those who understood. Grinning like a mad man Red had rushed towards his dorm not all that surprised when he soon heard two sets of footsteps following from a safe distance.

He was finally going home. Even if it was only for the holiday.


	22. Chapter 22

_~Second Year~_

Red had finaly discovered the Dark Arts and though Nigel knew he should probally tell someone or at least try to talk the Russian out of it, he never could find words to do so.

As Harry he would have instanctly shielded away from them and reported it without a moments hesitation but as Nigel...

Well, Nigel didn't see a reason to do so. As Red had put it:

'Magic was Nuetral. It didn't just suddenly decide that it wished to be Light or Dark. It was the Wizard who decided that and therefore it was the wizard who should be considered Light, Neutral or Dark. '

Neutral was a term Nigel wasn't quite used to hearing when it came to magic, though it appeared to be highly popular in Russia. Children in their school were taught both Light and Dark Magic, afterwards it was up to them to decided what they planned to do with it.

Be the Hero.

Be the Villain.

They didn't care as long as it didn't effect the Russian People or its Ruling.

So after much thought and debate, Nigel allowed himself to study the basics of Dark Magic, Even if it was only to better understand what Riddle may had- and one day will- use in an attempt to kill him with.

* * *

It was fanisating really.

Magic was quite similar to a large spectrum with the two extremes being Light and Dark. Both sides were harmful if strong enough, though many tended to overlook the fact when it came to 'Light' Magic- but if strong enough they could easily cancel each other out.

The Scientist within Red couldn't help but bubble with questions, theries and saturated opinions. He needed to know more, to run test and experiments- preferbally with both Light and Dark Magic.

Unfortunetly, things just wasn't that simple. The British had a strange view of Magic and was constantly on the lookout for any used of what they called 'Dark' Magic. Then there was Dumbledore and his laughable attempts to 'save' him.

It was utterly раздражающий and a complete waste of both their times. Red didn't need saving, nor did he want it. He was content with his life, even if other people weren't. Though at times the Russian allowed himself to pause and wonder why his Deupty HeadMaster was so determined to involve himself into Red's personal life.

Maybe it was a British thing?

Nigel and Dylan did it on a daily basics, but then again they were spies...

Red was so deep in his own thoughts pondering about where exactly he could experiment without getting caught and nasty habbits that seemed to follow him, the Russian almost failed to notice as a door suddenly appeared on what was once just a regular stone wall.

_Almost._

* * *

_Red had picked up a new hobby. _

_Two separate pairs of blood red eyes watched as the Russian left dinner during the midway instead of staying around for the rest of the meal and desert. It wasn't uncommon for the Russian to leave early but he had been making a hobby of doing so for the last two months and neither had any luck in locating the younger, not even when they enlisted the aid of their companions. _

_After a few more moments; Buck Rockgut, Nigel Tux, Tom Riddle and Abraxas Malfoy left the Great Hall though different exits. Two out the front door, hoping to catch sight of their elusive Russian foe and two out a side entrance that would lead towards the stairway. _

_Once again though the Russian would give both the slip and only turn up in Ravenclaw Tower around time for the lights to go off. _

* * *

_Despite how he tried Tom Riddle had little to no luck on catching the attention of the two Ravenclaws and Hufflepuff that had caught his attention. _

_The Russian was highly elusive and had a habit of vanishing into thin air when he wasn't attending class or meals. _

_The American was highly paranoid with a bad habit of attacking whatever set off his mental alarms, something Tom and several of his followers had learned the hard way after a horribly failed attempt to corner the crimson eyed maniac. A icy shiver ran down Tom's spine at the memory but he quickly brushed it aside._

_And then there was Tux, the only semi-sane one of that group. Though the Ravenclaw avoided him like a plague for reasons unknown. Tom had tired to corner the other but Tux had an excuse at hand to leave almost immediately. _

_Though there had been a strange moment between the two, Tux in his rush to leave had accidently brushed shoulders with him and for a brief moment Tom swore he felt a sense of familiarness and a slight shock- like static electricity- rush though his veins. A brief moment later both it and Tux was gone. _

_There was something strange- even by his standards- about Nigel Tux._

_Something the other was hiding from him and possibly everyone else. _

_Something Tom Riddle was determined to discover once and for all, no matter how many years it would take to do so. _

* * *

_раздражающий- annoying_


	23. Chapter 23

**_~Third Year~_**

Something had changed.

With a light frown, Nigel watched as Red scowled at him and Rockgut for a brief moment before looking away. Now scowling, glaring, harsh words and threats- those were normal for the Russian- but that gleam in the younger's lone eye was not.

It seemed to be a strange combination of Frustration, anger, and jealously- surely he must of imagine it though.

What did the Russian have to be jealous of?

It couldn't be the girl hanging off his arm, Red loathed everyone, especially Fangirls that just threw themselves onto others like a sacrificial lamb.

Shaking his head slightly, Nigel tried his best to ignore Myrtle's cooing- if he didn't know she was going to die next year he'd give her a rather rude piece of his mind and shove her off- and the Russian's rather hateful glare.

* * *

He was not angry. What was there to be angry about?

Its not like Nigel _knew_ he was his. The young spy was rather obvious concerning certain matters at times and this appeared to be one of those few matters.

He was not angry. He was calm. He would not waste his anger on such a lowlife piece of trash like that sl-

Taking a breath the Russian cut his thoughts off so not to fuel his anger.

Inhale...One...Two...Three...Exhale.

Calm down, the Count would throw a fit if he knew his Protégé was throwing such a childish fit- even if it was in Red's mind.

Later Red would pull the girl- Myrtle, if he remembered correctly- aside and warn her away from Nigel. And if she didn't listen...

Well, did he really have to explain?

* * *

The Nancy Cat was an idiot.

Even from across the Great Hall Buck could tell Red was on the verge of reaching over and just strangling the girl on Nigel's arm. Why the Spy was allowing such an annoyance like Myrtle Warren to latch onto him was beyond the American. All she ever did was whine, complain and insult anyone who didn't match her description of 'Pure Blood'.

Maybe the Brit was hoping to rile Red up?

If that was the goal the spy had defiantly succeeded, the Russian looked about ready to commit murder.

* * *

Myrtle Warren knew she wasn't the prettiest girl around, some boys even looked better then her. She wasn't the smartest or the most effective but she was cunning.

Its why the hat had wanted to put her into Slytherin but she knew better. The Warren Family had fallen when she was a child and now most didn't even remember then, so she was saw as a 'Muggleborn'.

Fallen or not, she was raised to be the proper pureblood she was and she would come out on top. Once she did that she was raise her family again, under a new name.

Her issue though was which name?

After a year of quietly observing and calculating each of her fellow students, Myrtle settled on one.

Tux. Nigel Tux.

He perfect for her plans:

Smart, Handsome, a bit obvious, caring, powerful, and his magic.

A shiver race down Myrtle's spine just thinking of it.

It was intoxicating.

It was so bright yet there was a darkness lingering to it. It was like a vast ocean, always moving though the calamity of it depending on his emotions. When he was anger it stormed, violently thrashing about like a hurricane. When he was clam, it was still and peaceful; like a pond in the park on a warm summer day.

When he was with the American Hufflepuff and the Russian Ravenclaw, Tux's magic would act like a child. Happily swirling around their own while trying to latch onto theirs. Though Tux's magic, rather violently rejected the Half-blood Slytherins. It was interesting- adding a sense of mystery to the man- and only made him that much better for her.

Now the question was how she could acquire his attention and keep it?

"Alright Class," Professor Slughorn moved towards the front of the room, a smile on his chubby face, "Today we will be learning how to brew Amortenia. Now, ten points for the student who can tell me what Amortenia is and who created it."

Amortenia...Love Potion, the strongest in existence.

Lady Magic was smiling upon her.

* * *

He wasn't happy.

Of course, Red rarely was but that wasn't the point. The point was he probably wasn't going to get through this year without killing Warren.

She was up to something, the Russian was certain of that and she wasn't even being subtitle about it. She kept slipping something into Nigel's drink which he would in turn swap glasses with the aggravated Russian. Did she realize how many Vodka and Whiskey spiked drinks he was missing out on thanks to her 'Plan'.

Scowling in annoyance, the Russian glanced at the tainted glass of Pumpkin Juice before him- He didn't even like Pumpkin Juice, damn it!

Glancing across the table, Red was rewarded by one of Nigel's charming smiles as mischief danced within the Spy's emerald eyes. Slowly the Russian could feel the tension fade from him before allowing his lone eye to glance at Myrtle, who was watching Nigel like a hawk watches a field mouse.

And suddenly the tension and his annoyance was back. Moving swiftly the Russian swapped his glass with that of Warren's before leaning back as though nothing had happened.

He wasn't happy and if he couldn't, well Warren- the source of his unhappiness- sure as hell wasn't going to be.

A light smirk appeared on the Russian's face as he watched Warren take a sip of the tainted drink without bothering to even look at it.

_This was going to be a long year but he would make the best of it that he possibly could. _


	24. Chapter 24

Soul Connections.

It had to be, it was the only thing that made sense. But why and how did he aquire on to the Ravenclaw. They never talked- despite his many tries- and the white haired teen had never been exposed to any of his 'Darker Arts'.

Hell, he had only just started to look into the subject concerning Soul and Bounding them to other objects. Yet even then there was no mention of anything that matched what he felt around the other. He had ever used magic to check on the portions of his soul- jsut in case- and it was all there; whole and attached.

So how could he have possibly formed a Soul Connection to Nigel Tux?

Frowning, Tom Riddle closed his leather bond, note filled dairy. Laying down on his bed, the young teen glared at the ceiling of his room, counting the cracks in the orphange wall.

There was something he was missing here.

Something important, but what?

* * *

There was something strangely fixatating about watching a person die.

The way their eyes would dim and the body would grow cold and stiff underneath your very hands. When you didn't know them it was easy, but it was another matter all together when you did and was unable to do anything to save them.

It left a person with a sense of hopelessness and guilt that could drive one mad if they allowed it.

It was an accident, he knew that. None of them had expected the weaponary to backfire, destoring the street and knocking the five of them into the underground tunnels.

It was hard to see here with the dim lighting but Buck Rockgut didn't need to see to know the other three memebers of his team was most likely dead. He could smell the rotting corspes from there.

So he focused on the only other thing he could: The fifth member of this accident.

Red looked like hell. His hair was a messy and not in its usual 'on purpose' way, the eyepatch had been lost showing the scars around the left eye socket and that mechincal monsterity. His usual well primed suit was torn and rattled, though there were parts of it a shade darker then the usual red leaving Rockgut to assume the other hadn't gotten away unharmed after all.

The most prominent thing though was the Russian's hands.

If Buck didn't know better he would swear they were shaking, then again he had hit his head on the way down. Those calloused and delicate hands were covered in blood- his blood- as they tried to slow the bleeding by holding what looked to be the Russian's favorite scarf to the American's chest. It must of been worse then he had first assumed.

Slowly Buck allowed his eyes to close. He was tired and he highly doubted the Mad Russian would attempt saving him only to kill him. A quick rest wouldn't hurt and when he woke he would deal with the issue at hand.

* * *

Death had been a constant companion though Red's life, a friend that never left nor did the Russian want him to.

The first time he meet Death he had been but a child in a Syberia Lab.

In the Labs Death had been a daily visitor, taking all- even his twin- but him. Even when he crossed into Death's Realm- as his body shut down unable to handle the torture any longer- the other would not take him. Every time he had ended up there as a child the other would sit him down near that warm fire, give him food and drink before reading to him from whatever random book he chose. And every time when Red fell asleep there he would wake back in the Hell in the his 'room'.

When he had left with the Count, Death had been there lingering about and taking a few of the henchmen every couple weeks. Red's visits became sparse, just a few every month, and the Russian had finally gotten around to asking why.

Why was he never allowed the enteral rest?

Would he ever be allowed?

And Death had told him. He told Red about Death's Master and how the Russian and another's souls were intertwined with his Master's. As the Master of Death this being would be an immortal figure and by default so would Red and the other.

It wasn't fair.

All he had wanted then was that peaceful rest and all he had acquired was Enteral Damnation of walking this world thanks to Death's 'Master'. Time had eased the bitterness but Red still hated it.

Especially at times like this.

How could this routine chase go so wrong?

There was nothing Red could do for Rockgut's team- all but one of them had been dead due to proximity to the blast. The other was dead before he hit bottom- but Rockgut was still hanging in there.

The rouge haired villain never actually thought he would ever be thankful for the American's utter stubbornness but now Red could honestly say he had been proven wrong.

Tying his scarf tightly around the open wound, the Russian forced his way to his feet and carefully threw one of the Agent's heavy arms around his neck.

They couldn't stay here. Rockgut would need medical attention as soon as possible.

Now which way would lead them to the surface?

* * *

This was not how Nigel had imaged he would be spending his Summer Vacation.

God he hated Hospitals.

Rockgut's team was KIA, they were still digging the bodies from the rubble and the American was in the Medical Wing while Red was locked up in some cell.

What the Hell was that Mad Russian thinking, walking into MI6 HQ was a critically wounded Agent?

Rockgut had instantly been snatched away and rushed for surgery while Red had been shoved inside a cell. Strangely enough, the Russian was still there- usually he would have disappeared by now.

As he neared the Rockgut's room, Nigel was a bit surprised to hear the American was arguing with someone- probably a nurse- as the Doctor had said the American would be asleep for a week at minimum.

Opening the door, Nigel fount himself rudely pushed to the side as the nurse stormed past him.

"Nice to see you're back to your charming self."

"Did you expect anything less?"

Even bed stricken Rockgut seemed to be lording himself above him. What would it take for this man to accept he was a fellow Agent and not a child playing at it?

"How are things out there?"

Sighing softly, Nigel sat in the guest chair by the bedside.

"They're still looking for Bomb Fragments. They haven't fount any so far though they fount...pieces of two of your teammates. Red dragged you here. He's sitting in a Cell in the Lower Levels."

"They're not going to find any."

Blinking, Nigel glanced towards the American Agent.

"Excuse me?"

"Bomb Fragments. They're not going to find any. The explosion was caused by a weapon malfunction."

Strange. Frowning the spy allowed himself to think over the report Agent Dawson had turned in. The man had reported they had fount a piece of shrapnel with Red's Signature on it. The Bomb Fragment piece was sitting in Evidence right now.

But if there had been no bomb why was a piece of one of Red's personal Bombs there?

"...I'll look into it."

"And Red? Has he been treated yet?"

* * *

MI6 Holding Cells were kept on a lower floor called the Vault due to the seemingly impossibility of anyone escaping. They were rather blend really.

A pale, lifeless white with a few thin covers thrown into the further right corner to act as a bed and was a bucket in the left upmost corner. Instead of bars there was a rather thick layer of bulletproof glass which could only opened by an automatic lock.

The inner décor of the cell was thick white tiles that covered every wall, though there was one- rather small area- where an air duct was located at. The ducts were usually used for gassing the more rowdy of prisoners when they got out of control.

All in all it was really quite a bore here. The Count had once called it the 'Time Out Area' as not much really happened here. Now when you were taken out of the room and showed the Agent's version of 'Bed Side Manners' then things got interesting.

Sadist torture in the name of Home and Country Interesting.

With a soft sigh, the Russian opened his eyes before glancing through the glass door at Nigel and the boy's mentor; Dylan.

Great. Knowing his luck they were probally here to letchure him on his attitude and way of life while trying to subititly conviecne him to 'Reedem' himself by working for the Agency...Again.

"Red."

They needed to work on their starting points.

"Nigel. Dylan. To what do I owe this...Pleasure?"

"Take off your coat?"

Raising an eyebrow, Red give the two man his 'Serious?' look.

"Pardon me, I believe I misheard you."

There was no way he was taking off his coat, especially since he had torn his shirt into strips for bandages for Rockgut's head.

"You heard correctly. Take it off."

For a brief moment Red narrowed his eyes before smirking as he leaned against the back wall.

"Make me."


	25. Chapter 25

He looked like hell under that jacket. Pale scarred skin with dried and browning blood sticking to his chest and stomach while a rather large gourge ran from his shoulder to hip. Slowly Nigel allowed his fingers to gently move down the wound and over the skin.

Stubborn Bastard, a part of the spy grumbled, he should have said something sooner. If something of this magitude got infected-

"Keep that up and I'll charge you with Sexual Harassment."

Jumping slightly Nigel quickly drew back his hand as if touching fire. Damn it, even when chained to a hospital bed, Red still managed to get under his skin.

"I'm trying to check for infection."

"Of course you are."

Shaking his head, Nigel chose not to respond - if he did they would likely end in their annual arguments that would somehow end with the Russain escaping and him flustered half to death -but instead continued with his enspection.

There were some minor wounds- compared to the previous- as well. So far he had counted three that would require stiches and four fingers that would have to be rebroken and set correctly.

Thankfully there didn't appear to be anything too major that would require surgery, though that one gourge was still questionable in that matter. It would depend on wither or not the damage was as bad as it looked and if infection had settled in or not.

* * *

If there was one thing Red hated more then sugery it was recovering from said surgery while being strapped to a bed and forced to share a room with Rockgut. Hell, he'd actually prefer the cell compared to this room. At least there he had some illusion of privacy without being watched twenty four seven by a pariniod man.

Glaring at the celling, the rouge man pondered his -rather slim- chances of escaping without Rockgut noticing.

...

...

...

"Red?"

Raising an eyerbow the Russian glanced to the American who was now giving him this weird look- weirder then normal that is. Almost as if he was in pain yet grateful? Was that even possible?

"Da?"

"Thank You."

Silence consumed the room as the Golden eyed villain stared at one of his Arch Nemesis in disbelife. Did he just...Was he dreaming? Maybe he had a concussion as Buck Rockugt never thanked anyone for antything, let alone him.

"You're Welcome?"

Now if only he knew what the other was thanking him for and what parrell deminson he had accidentally slipped into. Whichever one it was Red wanted the Hell out, A friendly sincere Rockgut was just disturbing.

* * *

None of it made sense.

According to the American it had been a misfired weapon that had caused the explosion- and Nigel fount himself beliveing the man the more he personally looked into matters.

According to the street cameras Red had been on the other side of the street, no where near where the Bomb Fragment was fount. Red never once put his hands into his pockets or pulled out the remote detonator his bombs usually acquired. He just there far too close to the blast zone with an amused glint in his lone eye as the Agents caught up to him.

No detonator.

No other Bomb Fragments.

That damn amused look.

Far too close to the blasting range.

If there was a bomb Red obviously didn't know about it.

And then Agent Megal drew a weapon and just like the American said it backfired.

Playing the frames back slowly Nigel watched Red closely through it all. The amusement had vanished instantly the moment the weapon had began to glow a bright red from the inside out instead it was replaced with wide eyed statement before he was towards the Agent shouting at them to drop it and run.

They never got the chance to do so as the weapon exploded blowing the street up with them.

This was no Bombing on the Russian's behalf. It was obvious even he hadn't expected the miscalculation so it ruled out Foul Play from him as well.

Which only left one thing: Someone planted the Fragment. Someone- for whatever reason- was trying to frame the Russian.

But who?

And Why?

* * *

"Red, wake up."

Instantly the Russian's lone golden eye snapped open. He knew that voice and disobeying never ended well even on matters of waking or sleeping in- he was not being thrown into another of them damn icy lakes no matter how 'safe' he was with the man there.

Slowly the rouge's lone eye blinked as it moved around the room, locating the source of the voice who happened to be standing on his right.

Victor von Sova.

The man's natural silver hair was slicked back as his golden eyes were narrowed slightly in annoyance- at what Red wasn't sure but he suspected it had something to do with the Doctors uniform and the man was wearing and the fact he had been forced to come from Mother Russia just to break into MI6.

Saved an Enemy Agent, Walked into MI6 willingly, Captured, Wounded, Strapped to a Bed in the Medical Wing of their Enemy's HQ.

God Above, he was in so much trouble.

"Father."

* * *

Some one was going to pay.

That was the first thought to travel though Count Victor von Sova's head as he started down at his sleeping protégé, who was wrapped in heavy yet blood stained bandages and strapped down to the Enemy's Hospital bed.

The first time he doesn't have one of his 'Mice' following his child and this happens.

He knew it had been too soon to allow the boy free, unsupervised reign. Yet Red had inherited a silver tongue and held a strong case about learning best while doing.

Oh yes, he could just see how _well_ his son was doing alone:

Saving an Enemy, Walking into the Enemies Headquarters, being Captured and actually staying, Wounded far more then he should be for a simple outing, Strapped to a bed in the Enemy's Isolated Medical Wing, Being Framed for a Bombing that never happened.

This is why you should never allow your children to leave home far too soon- even if they think they're ready for it.

"Red."

Instantly his son's natural eye opened and glanced around before landing on him.

Slower reactions- usually he couldn't get near Red's bed without waking him- probably hyped up on whatever drug those so called 'Doctors' used.

"Father."

For a brief moment emotions flashed through the boy's lone eye- another lesson they were going to have to go over- before settling on resigned look. Good. Things went so much smoother when the boy wasn't actively fighting him every step of the way.

Not wasting time, the 'Mad Owl' began to work on freeing his Heir.

"They're holding you responsible bombing for the street that killed three agents."

"I didn't do it. It was a Weapons Malfunction."

"I know. I checked your weapon stash before coming."

Freeing one of the boy's hands the Count stood back watching as the rouge haired boy finished freeing himself.

"You're Grounded."

"Yes Sir."

"You'll be coming home as well. "

A soft sigh left the other as he stood and began to search for his clothing.

"Yes Father."

Reaching into his bag, the Count handed the smaller a spare set of clothing he had brought along out of foresight- those Agents had probably burned Red's by now.

* * *

He was going to die of boredom.

Leaning back in his seat, Red glared at the Ankle Bracelet that was part of being grounded. God he hated being trapped in this house, especially when he to listen to every lesson the Count's ever taught him through the years despite having mesmerized them all.

It was like being sent back to school starting with preschool after graduating Collage. Personally Red would rather be back in MI6's Holding Cells- Maybe their building prison- then here.

"Pay Attention!"

Sitting straight once more, Red forced himself to refocus on the Count while dutifully ignoring the slight sting on his cheek form the being grazed by the Count's throwing knife. Only ninety-five more days to go.


	26. Chapter 26

Someone was framing Red but why?

The Russian got into enough trouble on his own without being falsely accused of something. _Maybe someone was trying to cover something up_, Nigel pondered softly to himself- seems his saving people habit had decided to resurface after all these years- _and was using Red as a Scapegoat. _

It made sense in his opinion. No one would think twice about a person like Red being the cause of such an incident. The Russian had both the skills and the utter loathing to do it, only this time he hadn't. The villain was innocent for a change.

So what else was there?

What was the reason?

What was he overlooking?

Who was he overlooking?

There was a third party, of that both Nigel and Harry agreed on, but neither side of them could figure out who. Sighing softly Nigel closed his emerald eyes, he would need help. There was only two people he could even think to ask that he was certain wasn't involved:

The American- Buck had been there. He knew the truth.

And his Father.

Groaning softly, Nigel gathered the bits of evidence he had located and stuffed them into a case before shrinking it and slipping it into his inner vest pocket.

It wouldn't do to _lose _the evidence.

* * *

Despite how hard it was to believe, evidence didn't lie, someone was framing Red.

But why?

Dylan frowned as he sat by his fireplace, watching the flames dance and crackle.

Red was an upstart, he had caused trouble but not enough to warrant this.

There was something else going on here.

_Think Dylan think. Who could profit from this?_ _What could they hope to profit by framing a child?_

_Child. Red. Russian. The Count's Protégé._

And suddenly it hit Dylan.

_Red was the Count's Protégé, his heir and only child. What if Red wasn't the target- rather just Critical Damage? What if they were going after the rouge haired child to get to the Count?_

_The Count had acquired many enemies over the years and how best to hurt him then through his legacy? His flesh and blood. _

_They had set it up the way they did because they knew Red would be brought in. They had wanted the Russian child here. Why?_

_Think. Why would you want someone here out of reach..._

_Unless, they had an inside man. _

_And inside man who would then have access to the child. _

Standing Dylan moved swiftly to his phone, dialing the Commander, not even bothering to wait when he heard the click of it being picked up.

"You need to check on Red. Run some more test now."

"Dylan," The Commander spoke after a moment, "Red's gone. He broke out last night."

Gone...Victor must of retrieved the boy. God Damn It! Couldn't he have waited a day?!

"Listen to me, this is highly important. You need to find him now. Bring him back and run every God Damn test you can. There's a mole in MI6 and I believe they did something to him while he was in our care. I'm coming in now. I'll explain everything when I get there."

Not waiting for a response, Dylan hung out before rushing out the door- grabbing his coat on the way out.

* * *

His headache was getting worse.

Sighing softly the Russian closed his eyes, trying to ignore the throbbing pain behind them.

It was rather strange really, he had felt perfectly fine earlier but now he felt as though he was back in his 'room' at the labs, recovering from a rather 'busy' day.

In other words: Like Hell.

Everything hurt; his side, his eyes, even his damn fingers.

Knowing his luck he had probably caught an infection somehow, in which case he would like to make a formal complaint against MI6- he really did not like being under the scalpel any more then necessary.

Opening his eye as he left something wet slide down his lip, Red brought up a hand and wiped it across his mouth only to stare in disbelief at what was on the back of his palm.

Blood.

Standing the Russian Villain made his way to the bathroom before glancing into the mirror.

His nose was bleeding.

Grabbing several tissues the Russian pressed them to his nose and leaned his head back while mentally grumbling.

He couldn't recall the last time he had a bloody nose but if it was the cause of his migraines then he would deal with it if only to make them go away.

This was not his day but hey, on the bright side things could only get better from here.

Right?

* * *

**_~Elsewhere in an Unknown Location~_**

An elderly man with graying hair and hard brown eyes set back in his chair as he hung up his phone.

Finally after so many years of plotting, watching and waiting for the right time his plan was in motion. His revenge would be slow and so agonizingly sweet. The best part of it all though was he would hit Victor where it hurt the most.

His Legacy, his own flesh and blood- finding out that bastard had a son had been quite a surprise even for him. Apparently Victor's Possessive Tendencies knew no bounds to hide a child's existence for the earlier years of his life.

It didn't matter now though- in a way it made revenge all the more sweeter since the man had time to grow attached- his inside man at MI6 had infected the child an by now the boy was likely experiencing the first stages.

Neither Victor or MI6 -though it was unlikely MI6 would even bother since they believed the boy was responsible for 'Bomb' that killed three of their Agents. If only it had been that simple but instead he had to sacrifice one of his pawns; Megal, to stage the Weapon 'Malfunction' instead- would catch on until it was too late and if they did...

Well there was no cure for this.

The boy would die no matter what they did.

All was well.

For him at least


	27. Chapter 27

There was something wrong with him.

There he admitted it.

No he did not mean Mentally but rather physically.

For the past week Red's migraine had gotten worse with each passing day. His body felt like led and was constant pain- which was becoming harder and harder to hide-and it seemed to grow heavier with ever miserable hour that passed.

He kept getting random nosebleeds and day before yesterday his ears had started to bleed!

Taking a rigid breath, the Russian pulled the covers closer to his body that damn icy chill decided to hit him again as he glanced to the clock...

Which had somehow multiplied while its damn numbers were apparently whirling everywhere but where they should be. Scowling the rouge hair boy reached over to turn the clock around only for his hand to pass through it and hit wood.

After a few more failed tries and grumbles of annoyance, his fingers finally closed around the burning metal- which he chose to ignore in favor of tossing it against the opposite wall where it shattered upon impact.

Thankfully the Count wasn't here- having some _'Meeting' _with Dylan today- to investigate the noise. Still he would have to do something about that echo sometimes; it was quite annoying hearing that thing shatter more then once.

Sighing softly the Russian rested his head back on his pillow trying to ignore the way the room was spinning and how it sudden felt like he was on the inside of an oven.

It was probably just a fever anyway. Give it time to run its course.

It would eventually go away.

* * *

Dylan was just being over-paranoid, he had to be.

No one ever infiltrated MI6 that deep, let alone to solely harm his Protégé. But if he wasn't...

If he wasn't then Red was probably in more trouble then he was currently aware of.

Which was why Victor fount himself actually diving for a change as he went well above the legal speed limit back to the current base they called home while Dylan yelled from the passenger seat about him going to kill them and his usually driver - Yasha- sat calmly in the backseat.

He didn't even bother cutting the engine or waiting for a full stop as the vehicle screeched in front of the Base. He was out the door and rushing up the stairs by time Dylan managed to stop the car fully with only one concern in mind.

He was going to find his Protégé and determine wither or not Dylan theory was correct.

If not Victor would apologize but it was...

He really didn't' want to think about it. If Dylan was right they would figure something out, someway to come out on top.

They always did.

Screeching to a stop outside his child's door, the Count pounded on it for a good ten minutes without answer.

Sure it was possible Red wasn't in there but there wasn't many places the boy could go with the ankle bracelet wielded shut. And if he was...

Well he was either ignoring him- something the younger Russian never did- or unconscious.

Fuck it. He'd buy a new door later.

**_Crash!_**

* * *

He was right.

There was something defiantly wrong with Red.

He didn't hear the shouting, the Count's knocking or when the Russian man broke down the door in a moment of panic. He just kept sleeping and that might have been normal for a regular teenager but not this one.

Then there was the issue of his body temperature.

Even as he was checking it, the boy had been burning to the touch yet shivering then it had abruptly changed; the child was suddenly trying to kick off his covers while his skin was like ice.

This was not natural.

"We need to get him back to MI6 to run test."

"I have a better lab here."

It was painfully obvious Victor didn't want to send the child back, especially since there was a high possibility the person who had done this during Red's first visit was still there.

"We have a better Medical Wing, Victor. A lab is only half of what is needed here. "

Anger flashed through those golden eyes as the Russian's voice rose into a holler.

"I'm not sending -"

Whatever he was going to protest, Dylan would never know as the teenager on the bed started convulsing rather violently, drawing both of their attentions.

"Get his head!"

Neither spoke again until the child finally stilled.

"He's getting worse Victor. He needs a Doctor not a Scientist. "

* * *

He didn't like this.

His child should be in his lab, were he would use his own knowledge and science to save the boy, not one of the enemies white walled room, hooked up like a test subject in a Mad Scientist's lab.

He didn't trust the Doctor's one bit. Their gleaming glasses and white coats with greasy smiles.

But he did trust Dylan.

The Spy was his worst enemy, lover and friend all rolled up in one package. Dylan would never knowingly throw a child under the metaphorical bus, but unknowingly...

Well...

There was a slight possibility there.

* * *

White walls.

The smell of chemicals and chloroform.

The soft clicks of heels against tile flooring.

The steady beep of a heart monitor.

The fluttering of papers.

The creaking of a carts while as it was pushed by.

The cold ethical whispers.

A part of Red wanted to open his eyes, to ensure himself it was all in his head, but he was so tired.

His eyes were heavy and even the lids felt like boulders.

So he listened.

He listened and he waited for something, anything, that would tell him this was all in his head. It was not _that _place.

_That _place was nothing but ashes in the red snow now.

Everything was fine.

It was all in his head.

And there it would stay.


	28. Chapter 28

He hated this.

He hated it.

Nigel utterly despised that helpless feeling that consumed him as he watched the Russian sleep in a bed that was Much too large for his small, slender figure.

He hated how hopeless and useless he felt, something he hadn't felt once like this since he was Harry Potter. He hated that someone he cared for- He would never tell Rockgut that- was suffering and he could do nothing to stop- or even ease it!

He was useless! Completely and utterly useless.

He had tried so hard to be so much more then Harry, the boy who lived, Freak. Yet what had it all been for?

When push came to shove, he could only sit at a bedside, softly cursing himself as he watched the younger thrash about in his sleep.

How old was Red anyway?

Younger then him, Nigel knew that much at least.

Too young for something like this to be happening to him.

* * *

He hated it here.

He hated the too soft bed.

He hated the white walls, the smell of chemicals in the air, but most important of all:

Red utterly loathed that look in his 'Guests' eyes.

Red knew better then anyone when someone was pitying him, no matter what else they called it.

He had no use for it nor did he appreciate it.

A few times, the Russian teen had considered just reaching over and hitting Nigel- possibly strangling him as well- yet every time his limit reached its breaking point the Russian would catch a glimpse of something else in those emerald eyes:

Anger.

Sorrow.

Self Loathing.

Pain.

And just like that the limit seemed to reset itself as it stole away the Russian's righteous anger.

It just wasn't right for the Spy to be like that.

Nigel- no matter what personality he took: Clumsy Gentleman or Serious Spy- was never supposed to have that look.

Which was why the Russian was quietly enduring the Spy's rather clingy gestures- he would very much like his arm back sometime this week- while having to force down the terrible 'food' the other kept making him.

* * *

"Having Fun?"

There was a tint of amusement in Rockgut's eyes as he glanced over the sleeping Brit snuggled up next to a glaring Russian, who looked highly uncomfortable with the other being so close.

"Go to Hell."

The Russian ordered as he avoided the American's gaze.

"Only if I can take you two with me."

Hell would be rather boring without either there to cause untold chaos and drive him insane.

"Sorry," the younger deadpanned, "They already kicked me out. So you and Nigel will just have to go alone."

With a slight tilt of his mouth being the only sign of his Amusement, Buck plopped onto the Russian's bed- bluntly overlooking the opened death threat in that lone golden eye- so that way the younger was trapped between him and the sleeping Spy.

"If that's the case, I think we'll just haunt you instead."

Annoyance flashed in that lone eye as the other gave him a hard look but chose to drop their conversation instead of pushing it like the Russian normally would have done. Instead the other looked as though he hadn't slept in days and was about to just collapse into the dreamless abyss.

While Red was a bastard and a agonizing pain to deal with on a good day it didn't mean the American wanted him dead. Prison?

Without a doubt- though he'd prefer a mental ward.

Six feet under in a box?

No. Just no.

Though considering the rate this...Thing-whatever it was; their Scientist and Doctors couldn't figure it out as the thing kept mutating every time they turned their backs- was going that's exactly where Red was heading for.

With a soft sigh, the American Agent closed his eyes and forced his body to relax as he drowned out the depressing thoughts.

Red would be fine- the Russian was too stubborn to die like this- and when he was better they would all share a laugh over it before going back to their old routine.

Everything would be fine.

Now if only he could convenience himself that, then maybe he could convenience others as well.


	29. Chapter 29

"You're dying. They can't cure you, Red."

How the hell did she of all people manage to get this far in?

"Thank you for pointing out the obvious, Widow."

Did she honestly think he didn't know? That he was unaware of the looming shadow over him?

Hell, the hourglass Death had left at his bedside was still tickling down the days until he would be making another visit to see the entity. Red's issue wasn't with dying, it was with staying dead.

"I can give you time."

Raising an eyebrow the Russian gave the albino a questionable look.

"And what's in it for you?"

A smile twisted onto the other's lip lightening up her face in a way that made it easy to recall how so many people fell victim to her.

"I need a small favor."

Of course she did. A hard look came to the rouge's face- he clearly recalled the last time she had asked for a 'Small Favor' and wasn't quite ready for a repeat.

"What is it?"

* * *

"Absolutely not."

The Russian teen deadpanned as that lone eye bore into her.

"You're going to die if you don't accept Red."

Widow reminded the rouge as she mentally sighed.

Sure, she had expected this but surely he would value his life too much to say no? Apparently not.

"Everyone dies. Its just a matter of when and how."

How could he turn down his own life so easily? She wasn't asking for much:

Just that he help her thoroughly 'burn down a few bridges' and marry her.

The Russian had no issues in helping her burn down her bridges- he had already burned down plenty of them for the Count- but for some reason he kept refusing her offer of marriage.

Why?

She was wealthy.

She had Influence in all the right places.

She was beautiful- even Red had admitted it when they were younger.

She knew him and they even had history together.

They had grown up as children knowing each other and had once even been considered one of his sparse friends. He had even rescued her a couple years back like one of the Princes in her childhood fairy tales. He fit every requirement she set without even trying.

So why did he keep rejecting her?

* * *

Dealing with Widow always left Red was a headache from hell.

She just couldn't get the point could she?

He had tried everything from deceptive clues to just being outright blunt with her yet she still bothered him about that one issue.

Sure he was bisexual but just wasn't interested in her. He wanted something- someone else.

Preferably someone who wouldn't automatically agree to everything he said like Widow tended to do. Someone he could hold a decent, intelligent conversation with would also be nice.

Running a hand through his hair the Russian heard the bathroom window shut behind the albino as she fled out of it since Nigel was at the door.

"Come in."

He kept his voice firm even as his gaze moved to the hourglass. There was only a few hours left on it.

* * *

He hated it when this happened.

The Russian watched silently as Nigel's lips moved yet he could hear nothing.

No words, no soft clatter of teeth, not even the soft ticking from the clock on the wall or the water dripping from the bathroom sink.

Nothing. Just utter Silence.

Red tried to focus on reading the Spy's lips but he kept finding himself...Distracted.

It was highly frustrating for the Russian who instead of reading the other's lips kept finding himself focused on the way they moved when the Spy talked or how soft they looked after the other would nervously lick his lips as if they were dry.

Were they really that soft?

Would it hurt to find out for himself?

Subconsciously the Russian began to lean forward, his fists tightening their hold on the heavy cover in his lap before catching himself and freezing in place.

* * *

Nigel heard of zoning out before but Red took it to a whole new level.

The Spy had spent the last five minutes saying nothing but the Russian's name yet the other didn't respond once, instead that lone eye stayed locked on him with a considering gleam to it while keeping a painful grip so tight on the cover in his lap that the Russian's hands were ghost white.

Tilting his head to the side in thought, Nigel observed the Russian closely.

What could possibly be going on his head?

"Red?"

...

...

...

Nothing. Sighing softly, the spy ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back out of habit before gently rapping his fingers on the back of the Russian's hands.

"Ello? Anyone in there?"

...

...

...

Apparently not.

"Red, if you don't answer me I'm going to do something your not going to like~"

The spy threatened as he kept his gaze locked on the other who didn't so much as blink.

...

...

"Alright. Don't say I didn't warn you."

In one swift gesture the spy leaned forward, capturing the younger lips with his own.

* * *

There was only one real way for Nigel to describe the way the Russian tasted:

Sweet.

It was strange such a bitter person could taste so sweet. It reminded him a lot of the homemade deserts Dylan would make but with a hint of wild honeysuckles thrown in. Honestly the spy had except something more bitter- like limes or maybe the vodka and whiskey the other always slipped into his drink at Hogwarts.

Pulling away a moment later, Nigel fount himself was the sight- he would forever hold over the younger's head- of a blushing and flustered looking Russian, who looked utterly stumped for a change.

"Do I have your attention now?"

The emerald eyed teen asked all too innocently as he smirked at the rouge.

"...Da..."

"Splendid! Now as I was saying.."


	30. Chapter 30

He knew this place. He knew it well.

Sighing softly, Red made his way to the door just floating in the darkness and opened it, only to end up in some sort of study with books on every wall and two recliners by the fireplace.

He didn't need to look to know that one was already in use as he made his way to the other and sat across from the clocked figure.

"How long am I staying this time?"

"Not long," He could hear the amusement in the other's raspy voice, "Just long enough so that I can explain what's going on and for my Master to come fetch you."

A light frowned appeared on Red's face.

Fetch?

What did he look like a puppy waiting for its owner?

He didn't ask though as the rest of the sentence hit him.

"So I'm finally going to meet the Bastard?"

A raspy chuckle left the other and for a moment, Red caught a flash of sharp teeth as the other smiled.

"Of course Child."

* * *

Death couldn't help but smile at the Child's blunt description of his Master.

It was one of the reasons he liked the child as much as he did. Deceptive to an Art but always rather blunt, leaving others to misinterpret his words in whatever way they wanted.

Another had been when they had first meet, the child had only been the tender age of three and even then the kit had never been all that afraid of him. Rather the youngling had stared at him and instead of cowering -like most children did when him- the boy had smiled so warmly and open.

Oh how he had wanted to take that small and hopeful child with him then, but he couldn't. The child was his Master's and out of his reach. So he did the only thing he really could:

He had comforted the boy and promised one day things would be better before sending the child back while he slept against him.

After that incident, the child had been able to see him when he was in the Mortal Realm.

Unfortunately things only got worse for the child to the point that the child fount himself making daily visits into Death's Realm but was never able to stay. And with each visit- and each time he was denied rest- Death could see anger building up against his Master.

And maybe that was what the child needed, especially after the death of his twin.

Then came along Victor von Sova, who flamed the child's loathing against humanity and give the child what he always needed.

A reason to continue.

And continue the boy had. Even now as he explained things to the smaller he could see that new fount fire burning like a star.

Now he would just have to sit back and observe how his Master and the Child reacted upon meeting.

* * *

"Call it. Time of Death; 2:01 AM."

He was Still alive, Nigel wasn't sure how he knew it but apart of him just knew Red was still alive just... Not home.

Almost like he was somewhere else instead of the still, vacant body before the spy. Even as the Doctors put away their equipment and filed out of the room, Nigel didn't move. He couldn't.

They were just giving up, after all this?

Couldn't they tell Red was still Alive?

Gripping the Russian's laxed hand Nigel could feel his anger boiling.

This wasn't right.

Surely there was something he could do.

Anything! He refused to accept this.

It was then- as if waiting for that very thought- that the room suddenly went dark and Nigel had the feeling he was being squeezed through a rather shredded, crushed up and hollowed out toothpick. The next thing he knew he was standing in a study between a cloaked figure in one recliner and the Russian- who he was certain was lying on a hospital bed- in the other.

"Red?"

That lone golden eye moved to him in surprise before something like understanding replaced it.

"Re-"

**Crunch!**

The Spy feel to the floor, holding his now broken nose as he stared at the furious looking Russian before him with Nigel's blood now on his knuckles.

**"You Bastard! It was you all this Time!"**

Nigel couldn't help but stare confused at the furious teenager before him.

Him?

All this time?

Red had been here before?

What the Hell was going on here?

Nigel didn't quite get the chance to ask as the Russian descended upon him in a rather violent beating. Doing the best he could, given his position, Nigel tried to defend himself from the furious teen.

What the hell did he do to make Red so angry at him?

* * *

As much as Death enjoyed watching his favorite child chastise his Master with his fists, the entity finally pulled the two apart. Throwing the righteously angry Russian back into his chair and his Master into the throne he had made between the two of them.

It was about time his Master knew of his presence and those he had condemned with him.

With a snap of his fingers another chair had appeared with a rather confused looking Special Agent Buck Rockgut in it.

"Now then," Death's raspy voice sent chills down two of the three teenagers' spines, "I believe an explanation is in order."

* * *

"So let me see if I understand this correctly,"

Rockgut all but growled as his hands tightly gripped the weapon in his lap- no one was quite sure were he got it from as the American had only been wearing a muscle shirt and boxers were he appeared and no one quite wanted to ask.

"We're screwed over because of Him?"

A finger jabbed sharply at the rather guilty looking Spy sitting upon a throne, that if the American wasn't mistaken, appeared to be made of human bones and skulls.

"If you call Immortality being 'Screwed Over', yes. You have been screwed over by my Master."

The raspy voice held a hint of amusement but that did nothing for the icy chills it sent down the Agent's spine.

Seriously?

Immortality?

Who in their right mind would want that curse?

To be forced to remain in this realm, forever denied that enteral rest, while everything one you knew- Friends, Family, Hell even Enemies- moved on to the Enteral Rest without you. To gain everything- friends, family, children, success- and then lose it what would eventually feel like a blink of an eye.

The more he thought over it the more Buck Rockgut fount himself completely understanding the Scowling Russian's righteous indignation.

* * *

Immortality.

This had to be some sick joke.

He didn't want this and Nigel was all but certain that Red and Rockgut didn't want it either; especially seeing how Red had been ready to all but kill him only moments before for cursing him with it.

This wasn't what he wanted.

Nigel had wanted to live a normal life- No Dark Lords, No Death Eaters trying to kill him, and especially NO IMMORTALIY. He wasn't Riddle, thank you very much.

And what was this about Hallows?

Sure he could understand the cloak- it was a family heirloom- but what did Dumbledore's wand and a stone have to do with anything?

Glancing at the three items Death had thrown into his lap- he didn't even want to know how the deity had acquired them nor did he want to- Nigel could feel his annoyance with them growing.

Somehow this was all their fault- he wasn't sure how but he just knew it- but why the Hell did he need them?

Sure, according to Death he was supposed to collect them in his past life, but that was another life, another person.

Nigel Dylan Tux was not Harry James Potter.

He wanted nothing to do with Harry, nor Harry's 'destiny'.

_**Hell, Nigel didn't even believe in Destiny!**_

And if- that's a big if- he would rather make his own then have it chosen out for him.

"I don't want this."

He gave Death a firm look as he shoved the items back into the deity's hands.

"Very few people do Master but that is the Hand Fate has dealt you. You may reject it, of course; but it will not reject you."

God, it would take some time to get used to that voice or at least to the point where it would stop ending ice down his spine.

The three accursed items were shoved back into his lap as the deity stood, its black tattered cloak clinging to it like a dense fog as it paced its way to what Nigel was certain was a liquor cabinet.

"Would you care for something to help wash it down with Master?"


	31. Chapter 31

"So... How long has he been coming here?"

Red couldn't help but raise an eyebrow as the American jabbed a finger his way.

"Pardon me?"

There was annoyance in the Russian's voice as he allowed his eye to narrow, silently daring the other to continue on with that train of thought. Of course, this was Rockgut and he either didn't care or just was too obvious to notice.

"You're too calm for someone who just woke up here, indicating you've probably been here before. How long?"

Didn't care, it was.

"I do not believe that is any business of your's."

Red spoke up at the same time Death decided to put his word in.

"Since he was three."

A lone golden eye glared at the deity, standing behind his chair, in annoyance. What was it with other's always telling his business to these two?

A raspy chuckle left the cloaked figure as Red felt a boney hand ruffle his hair, messing it up in the process.

Giving a soft sigh, the Russian relaxed into his hair, briefly allowing his lone eye to close until Rockgut and Nigel's disbelieving voices cut through the peaceful silence.

**"Three?!"**

You would think Death had stuttered while dancing around in a neon pink tutu with their reaction.

"Yes, Three."

The raspy voice answered for him with a hint of amusement within it. Really the other got far too much amusement from these two at his expense but Red supposed he could live with it. He was rather fond of the deity- though if anyone else tried the Russian was be sure to personally give them a one way ticket to their Enteral Slumber.

**"What the Hell were you doing that could possibly end you up here that young?!"**

Rockgut demanded, his crimson eyes narrowed into slit.

For a brief moment annoyance crossed the Russian's face before being replaced with a smirk.

"Classified," The Russian answered calmly as a flash of anger and annoyance crossed the two Agents' face, "Now if you don't mind I would like to wake before they shove me into an Ice Box or worse, The Incinerator. "

God, that had been a Nightmare escaping the last time and Red could honestly say he wasn't quite fond of a repeat.

* * *

Really Red wasn't the sort of person for sappiness, it always made him feel sick to his stomach- literally.

So when the first thing his conscious mind heard upon returning to its body was the rather tear stricken, broke up apologizes of his parental figure; Red really couldn't help himself- Victor von Sova did not apologize nor did he cry in such open emotions.

"What the Fuck is wrong with you?"

Silence was abrupt as a rather confused looking set of mismatched eyes glanced down at the man who had been grieving moments before.

After what sounded suspiciously like a face palm and Nigel's voice mumbling something about learning tact, Red fount himself wishing he had kept silent as The Count all but crushed the life out of him and those demons in the Lab Coats rushed in.

* * *

For once in his life, Victor von Sova was clueless.

His child- his Protégé- had been very much dead; no pulse, no heartbeat, icy skill, nothing more then a shell and then he wasn't.

It was illogical and a part of the man couldn't help but wonder had he finally lost those few sparse stands of sanity he had left, but a larger part of him just didn't care.

Red's body was still deterging every so slowly but he was still here, still in this Realm of Existence.

And really that was all that mattered to The Count.

Well that and getting his Child out of here ASAP, as it was obvious this place couldn't help the younger and Red was on the verge of having a rather violent breakdown if another doctor tried prodding him with a six foot needle.

He had all the information from the labs and Widow- such a lovely girl. He should really see about making Red spend more time with her again. Maybe while he was hunting down the Bastard behind this for the cure, if there was one- and her Mother had managed to come up with something that would slower the deterioration.


	32. Chapter 32

~Fourth Year~

He was in Hell.

That was the only explanation the Russian could conclude as the smirking albino first year clung to his arm like a lifeline in a storm.

Somehow he had died and ended up in Hell- not that ending up there would be all that surprising considering the sins he had committed in his short life.

Why else would she be there?

Better yet how exactly did Voodoo count enough to get her in this school and why the Hell did she chose public school when Red knew for a fact that Widow attended a Private School that her mentor personally chose for her...Talents.

* * *

Though he knew he shouldn't be, Nigel had to be honest with himself. He was highly amused watching his Russian Nemesis suffer all thanks to the albino clinging to his arm.

There was nothing quite like watching someone else being forced to deal with their unwanted feminine attractions. Speaking of which, Emerald eyes moved to his own unwanted 'attachment', who was giggling in a rather shrilly, eardrum piercing way.

If he recalled correctly this was the year that Riddle would open the Chamber. The year Myrtle Warren would die- and he would finally be free!...Errr..

He means he would greatly mourn her loss. Yeah, Mourn.

That was exactly what he meant to say.

Frowning softly Nigel forced back the part of his mind crackling at the fact he would soon no longer having to deal with the other's clinging and overbearing tendencies, all that time with Red over the summer was defiantly getting to him.

* * *

Widow had to admit, she had pulled a few strings to get herself into this rather dull school. Then she had all but threatened that filthy rag they called a hat to place her into Ravenclaw instead of Slytherin, but it would all be well worth it now that her beloved couldn't avoid her.

Oh, she just loved the look of surprise- Horror- that had filtered onto his face as she had been called forward. And the upmost joy- Pure and Utter Terror/Disbelief- that had crossed his face when the hat had finally saw things her way and she all but skipped her way to the conveniently empty seat -Having pushed other girl that had been there to the floor- next to him.

Phase One: Infiltration; of her master plan had gone without a hitch she could move onto Phase Two.

* * *

He always knew Wizards lacked common sense but was he the only one who noticed something disturbingly wrong with a first year clinging to a fourth year while trying her best to get her hands inside his clothes?

They were in the Great Hall for Morgana's sake yet no one else seemed to notice as the Russian Ravenclaw was forced to constantly removed the newest Ravenclaw's- Widow, if he recalled correctly- hands from his being multiple times throughout the meal. And the fact she trailed after him like a predator stalking it's prey when the Russian left at his normal time, didn't even seem to be noticed by anyone else but the paranoid Hufflepuff Abraxas was 'comrades' with and Tux; both who were looking more amused then disturbed.

It was almost like they were used to this.

Crimson eyes narrowed in consideration.

Even the Russian had seemed a bit resigned, so it was highly likely they knew the albino outside of the school. And the fact none of them tried to stop her could indicate to some sort of power the newest Ravenclaw held.

Then there was the way she acted, it all but screamed Pureblood, so at least he knew her blood hadn't been tainted by muggle filth.

Power.

Status.

Information.

She could be quite useful to his cause if he played his cards right.

* * *

This was quickly turning out be be a horrible year.

With a firm scowl in place Red quietly moved down the empty hallways with nothing but his thoughts for company.

Widow.

Riddle.

Warren.

Dumbledore.

Widow

He was pretty sure he was temporally blind in his good eye- He was never partnering with Rockgut in potions again, even if his life depended on it- forcing him to use that artificial nightmare instead.

What sounded suspiciously like a giant snake.

Did he mention Widow?

Wait. What?

Red paused mid-step as his mind decided to catch up with his ramblings.

Giant Snake?

For a brief moment the Russian closed his eyes and just listened.

...

...

Sure enough he could hear the hissing and what sounded suspiciously like scales moving over stone.

Opening his eye, the Russian stared ahead.

Da. Defiantly a giant snake. His shadow looked nothing like the one currently cast upon the floor before him.


	33. Chapter 33

_**Dear Sakura Lisel**_

_**The answer to your question is rather simple really and no, it wasn't a mistake. McGonagall was named after her Mother in my story, which is why the nickname Minnie was established. In old families it was rather traditional to name one's child after their Father, Mother or Grandparents. So I decided to play it into my story a bit. **_

_**As for the rest, it started in the future but moved to the past via The Veil of Death which Harry/Nigel fell through in the first chapter. If you have anymore questions feel free to ask away and I will answer to the best of my abilities. **_

_**Sincerely, **_

_**BuckRockgut**_

* * *

**_Opening his eye, the Russian stared ahead._**

**_Da. Defiantly a giant snake. His shadow looked nothing like the one currently cast upon the floor before him._**

For a moment the Russian just stood there, watching silently as the shadow moved rather hypnotically from side to side causing every hair on his tail- wrapped tighter then normal around his waist- to stand on edge. Slowly a hand dipped into his pocket, searching for the gun the Count always insisted he carry but stopped short as he recalled Nigel handing talked him into leaving it into his trunk.

_"It's a School full of children, Red. What's the worse that can happen by going one day without it?"_

'What indeed,' the Russian thought sarcastically as he look a slow purposeful breath, 'How about a Giant Snake someone saw fit to release in said school of Children?'

He was never listening to the Damn Spy again.

Without warning, the Russian bolted. The sound of scale over stone following swiftly on his heels.

* * *

Nigel had to admit, he was worried.

Sure, Red tended to stay out past curfew but usually the Chamber wasn't open and if he was correct Riddle should have opened it sometime tonight before setting it out to finish Slytherins 'Noble Work'.

Unfortunately Nigel had briefly forgotten about it and the small fact snakes thought Squirrels were a delicacy when he had managed to out wit the Russian into leaving his gun in his trunk. A weaponless Red roaming around in a castle with a giant snake that would probably believe the younger to be a midnight snack...

Standing the spy opened his trunk and removed his own gun.

Hopefully he wouldn't need it and instead fount the smaller before the snake did.

Spinning on heel with a rather determined look, the spy headed for the entrance to Ravenclaw tower.

* * *

How was it a 'quick midnight snack' equaled 'bring dragged down the halls by a rather swift Russian while a giant God-damned snake snapped at their heels'?

**He knew the younger had terrible luck and every god in existence seemed to be after him but this was ridiculous!**

**Where the hell had Red even managed to find such a serpent in a school of all things?!**

Getting rather annoyed with being dragged, Buck Rockgut being to put effort into actually running himself.

They would be having words later but for now, running seemed highly more appropriate then integrating the rouge.

* * *

Flashing a mirror into another empty room he was searching, Nigel felt himself relax slightly as nothing even snake related was inside.

Just another classroom.

Another empty classroom, much to the spy's annoyance.

Where the hell was he?

Standing straight, the spy glared into the room as if it was its fault he couldn't find the younger; only to be suddenly knocked inside a moment later.

Throwing his hands out, the emerald eyed teen managed to catch himself as he heard the door slam shut behind him followed by the bolt being clicked into place and a familiar voice all but shouting '**Colloportus'**. A moment later there was a loud bang as something- Red fount the snake didn't' he?- hit the door.

Standing, Nigel brushed off his pants as Rockgut and Red already feel into another argument- Rockgut accusing the youngest of them for having something to do with the beast and Red defending himself- while not bothering to pay him much mind.

Really? Even when a Basilisk was out to get them they couldn't get along.

Finally, having enough of their argument- and the Basilisk's rather catchy song of Squirrel Delicacies- Nigel allowed himself to rise his voice.

**"WOULD YOU ALL JUST SHUT UP?!"**

Silence fell as three eyes- one artificial- feel on him in looks of disbelief. Hell even the snake had fallen silent.

Running his fingers though his hair, Nigel sighed softly.

"Thank you. Now, I'm rather certain Red has nothing to do with this Buck. "

He saw the American opening his mouth- probably to protest in some way- but quickly raised a hand, silencing him before he could start.

"If anything I'd say this has Riddle all over it. Either way, accusing Red and you two going at each other isn't going to help any of us right now. So why don't each of you take a corner and calm down?"

Of course it was more of an order then a suggestion and thankfully both saw it for what it was as they both moved towards opposite sides of the room.

And that was when the Basilisk decided to continue his song:

**_Squirrel, Squirrel, Squirrel~_**

**_Roasted, Toasted, Fried and Coasted~_**

**_Crunchy, Munchies allied with Brunchies~_**

**_Squirrel, Squirrel, Squirrel~_**

**_Squirming in my Grip~_**

**_Sliding down my Slip~_**

**_Settling in my Tummy~_**

It was probably a good thing Red couldn't understand Parseltongue.

Despite how catchy Nigel thought it was he didn't think the Russian would appreciate **ANYTHING** singing about how much it wants to eat him.

* * *

No matter what way Red tried to spin this in his head, the Russian just couldn't find a way of making this any better then what it was.

Cause face it there wasn't many ways one could turn:_ 'I was hiding in a small room with my two Arch Nemesis from a giant snake that I'm pretty certain wanted to eat me'_ into anything suitable for the Count's weekly report.

Banging his head against the desk, Red all but ignored the way Rockgut and Nigel jumped in favor of trying to find anything he could report back that wouldn't end up with spending another summer_ 'grounded'_.

Unfortunately, the Count was a rather fickle person at times and would ground the Rouge for every little thing from a crooked button to reckless endangerment of himself.

Just considering making a report about this was just a nightmare waiting to happen.

But he could clearly recall the last time he had failed to make a report and the Count fount out- he especially wasn't happy seeing as it had been one of Red's few close calls. Lets just say the punishment he got for that one and purposely withholding vital information made the Count's usual punishments look like a day in the candy store where everything was for free.

He was screwed over no matter what he chose, wasn't he?

Well that was if the snake didn't eat him first.


	34. Chapter 34

Victor von Sova wasn't a nice man.

He wasn't even close to one, despite how he may act at times.

He could break the best of the best, those with enven the strongest of wills without much effort on his part- sans one stubborn spy he had claimed as his.

He was selfish, easy to anger, and rather low on morals just to name a few. When he liked something enough to lay claim on it, it was his.

His to teach, to grow, to harm, to love, to care for, to even kill if he should chose so.

His and no one elses.

So when someone else- besides himself- decided to harm what was rightfully his the man had no issues with ensuring the person behind it suffered in every way possible.

And if he had to start with the lives of the bastard's grandchildren to see it done?

So be it.

It wasn't the first child's head he had put a bullet through and it wouldn't be the last.

"Jamie?"

The soft voice of a young child- probably no more then a toddler, judging from the pitch- called from upstairs. Steeling himself the Russian man silently moved up the stairs to finish what he had started with this 'Jamie'.

After all, Victor von Sova was not a nice man. Nor would he pretend to be one.

* * *

If there was one thing Dylan hated dealing with it was seeing the aftermath of one of Victor's more gruesome bouts of vengeance. It was never something one quite wanted to see, Especially when it was revenge for what the Russian would consider his.

The golden eyed man had issues, especially when other people messed with what the man considered his. It was a possessiveness Dylan had spent years trying to curb to no avail.

Silently moving up the stairs the Spy pushed open a door to his right, only to feel as though he was about to lose his lunch.

It was a child's room with one of those new toddler cribs in the corner- all in all the room looked pretty normal, if you ignored the large dark stain on the wooden floor which surrounded a toddler's lax body.

Kneeling down next to the toddler- She couldn't be no older then four, maybe five- on the bedroom floor, Dylan sighed softly as he closed those blank hazel eyes.

Really he could understand that Victor was angry but there was always something a bit more personal with it when toddlers were involved.

* * *

A curfew?

The Russian gave him roommate a rather bland look with a hint of annoyance gleaming in the back of his lone eye.

"Is this a joke?"

If so Red wasn't seeing the humor to it.

Curfew? Him?

Surely the Spy didn't honestly except him to agree to this?

Judging from the rather bland look the other gave him, Nigel actually did.

The rouge had always suspected the elder wasn't all there in the head but he had never quite pinned the spy's condition to be this bad, that he would actually believe he could order **him** about.

Putting on his best 'Listen Here' Glare, Red allowed himself to speak his mind.

"Nigel, I put up with a lot of bull from you but I am **NOT** following **ANY** curfew you lay down. I am **NOT** one of your pesky little Agents you can just order around. If you want a curfew, that's fine with me, but I will **NOT** be following it as well. Nyet, Nada, Never."

* * *

Honestly Nigel hadn't expected the younger to take the Spy's recently placed curfew well.

Red was far to proud to just willingly bend to his will- even if it was for the other's own good...

Okay, fine it was towards all their benefits really:

Red wouldn't get eaten.

He wouldn't have to gut the thing just to save the Russian- who would be in a sour mood for only Merlin known how long.

Rockgut wouldn't find a way of getting dragged into this- the American had a terrible habit of going from innocent bystander to full out involvement without even meaning to.

He would finally be free of Myrtle- What?

Myrtle was bad enough when he was Harry but now- in flesh and blood- she was even worse. Though he never thought that was possible until they met. The Spy was also highly certain she was the reason Love Potions kept finding their way into his drink every night at dinner.

Everything would eventually find a way of working itself out on its own as Nigel had no such plans of chasing after a Giant, Man Eating Basilisk with Gryffindor's toothpick again. Almost getting killed by said Basilisk when he was Harry had been more then enough for the spy, who refused to play_ 'Dumbledore's Glorified Pawn'_\- cause face it, even Nigel could see that's honestly all he was as Harry; even if they tried to disguise it by calling him a Hero- again.

The only thing he had to do- let alone worry about this time- was keeping Red in their room past the curfew- which sadly was easier said then done- while allowing things to play out accordingly.

Watching said Russian touch their room's doorknob only to light up like a Christmas Tree, Nigel couldn't help but wince slightly- Maybe he should have informed Red he had warded the room to be electrified on the inside- Wouldn't want to accidently electrify the Professors or other Students who bumped into the doorknob on the outside, now would he- once his newly placed Curfew hit?

...

...

Eh. Red probably wouldn't have listened anyway.

Though he really should let go. Nigel could smell the other roasting from across the room.


	35. Chapter 35

Okay, Red would just like me make it clear now, that despite what Rockgut and Tux thought he had abosuletly nothing to do with Warren's death.

Its not like he had placed a mild suggestion spell on her that would give her the 'Brillant' Idea of confessing to his Spy in a Girl's bathroom- on theSecond Floor- past cerfew.

The Russain Espically didn't know the Chamber of Secrets entrance was in said bathroom- its not like he charmed a mirror to show him everything supecious Riddle did.

Surely he didn't suprosely hug her earlier in charms solely to make sure she had a faint trace of his scent on her.

Nor did he steal the invetation she sent Nigel to meet with her in said girls bathroom.

And surely he didn't purplsely distact both the American and the Spy from savig her by kidnappping Axbraxas and leaving them a cryptic message saying he was sendign the rather terrified pureblood back to the Count as a Gift.

Nyet, Red had _absolutely nothing_ to do with Warren's death.

And if he happened to do any of the things above?

Well it was just a very timely coincidence.

And if he fount it a shame the Basilsk only got to eat half of her before the professors finally showed up? Well that was more of his personal opinion then anyones. Everyone was intitled their opinions after all.

Now, in which part of the Forbidden Section was the Exorcism books located again?

* * *

"You think Red had something to do with it?"

"Without a doubt."

"Well, he has been a bit more cheerful then usual..."

"Cheerful? I think that's a bit of an understatement. He hasn't once snapped at Widow since Warren's...Incident."

...

...

"Think we should inform him we known he was behind it?"

"Nah," The American waved his hand dismissively, "We couldn't pin it on him anyway."

"So we're just going to let him get away with it?"

"Not much else we can do with his airtight alibi...Unless you actually miss her?"

...

...

"You know maybe I'll bake him a cake."

A soft hum left the American next to him, "Try not to go overboard Nancy Cat. We don't want Red thinking we'll reward him every time he does something like this."

Giving the Agent next to him his best innocent look, Nigel allowed his eyes to widen partially.

"Me? Overboard? I'd never. "

A soft snort left Rockgut as the corner of his mouth titled up slightly in amusement.

"Great. Then throw away those celebrations plans you've been writing up."

* * *

Widow couldn't be happier if she tried.

For once her beloved wasn't pushing her away or openly distaining her, instead he was actually showing her attention and being semi-polite in his own sort of way- though he still refused to marry her.

It was remarkable how much...Happier he seemed after orchestrating murder- another trait he likely picked up from the Count over the years.

If only she had realized that Warren girl had been the source of her beloved's anger- before he personally dealt with it- she would have delivered her head on a platter as a sign of her affections.

Oh well, it was too late for 'if only'. She would just have to keep her eyes opened for anyone else who could possibly be on that list. For now she would allow herself to enjoy the Russian's company while he was still in such a good mood and allowed it.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore couldn't keep a frown off his face as he sucked roughly at a Lemon Drop.

This whole year had been a nightmare.

Tom Riddle was getting out of hand. The child had opened the Chamber of Secrets and released the Monster which in turn had killed a student before framing the Half-Giant Hagrid.

Thankfully he had managed to save the Half-Giant from Azkaban- though he couldn't save the boy's wand- while gaining a new groundskeeper and loyal pawn.

That still didn't deal with his other issues though.

Tom Riddle.

The Russian Ravenclaw.

**BANG!**

The Sound of his door hitting the wall hard enough to actually crack it forced the man to look up, where he almost choked on his Lemon Drop.

And apparently the Russian's rather furious looking father.

How in the name of Merlin does the man keep finding out about what was happening within his school? Dumbledore was quite certain he never allowed any of that specific Ravenclaw's letters to leave the castle.

* * *

Hearing the rather agonizingly painful cries echoing through the castle walls, Buck Rockgut allowed himself to glance at the rouge hair tee sitting on his trunk with a gleam of satisfaction in his lone golden eye.

"You know, I'm being to think you enjoy given the Count reason to torment that man."

"Is it that obvious?"

The younger asked with amused smirk filtering onto his face.

"Painfully."

The Nancy Cat's voice cut in as he dragged his trunk next to theirs.

For a moment the youngest seemed to consider the other's words before shrugging his shoulders dismissively- Someone had to face the Count's wrath and it sure as Hell wasn't going to be him. Better to just offer up the man who should have known about the Basilisk and kept stealing all the mail he tried sending using owls.


	36. Chapter 36

There was something off about returning home that year.

If Nigel had been paying attention he probably would have placed the first sign as to the fact Dylan hadn't picked him up from the train station like the man usually would of. Instead he had on of the other Agents he was friends with do it.

Yet Nigel didn't pay it all that much attention, Dylan was a spy after all and a very busy man.

The second sign- which should have been more obvious- was how his Father- okay he wasn't on a mission or busy- had greeted him at the gate and keep trying to delay his entering the house. Nigel, of course, wasn't quite in the mood to stand out in the snow, so he had swiftly slipped past the man.

The Final and most obvious sign was the dirty blond haired child that had tackled his knees- almost knocking him over- as she hugged them tightly.

"Welcome Home, Big Brother!"

...

...

...

It took Nigel's brain a moment to catch up to her words, but when it did well..

**"What?!"**

* * *

Dylan had to be honest.

He had always known there was a high possibility of one of his past missions coming back to haunt him but he had never quite expected it to be in the form of a six year old child.

And not just any six year old child, His six year old daughter- he checked several times. She was actually his. He should have known that mission in Quebec would come back to bite him.

Running his fingers through his greying hair out of habit, the spy had pondered over exactly how he could explain this when Nigel returned home from his school.

He wasn't quite certain how his Lad would take having another sibling and Dylan could never quite find just the right time to mention it any of their letters.

How could he possibly hope to explain such a change in their lives like this over a piece of parchment?

For months he had worried himself- to the point of a mental breakdown- over the matter until before it was finally time for his Protégé to come home.

Finally- after what seemed like years- Nigel had finally arrived, though the elder man didn't quite have the chance to explain things before his Lad had pushed past him and entered the house.

Dylan knew the moment the emerald eyed boy had fount his new sibling by the disbelieving cry of 'What?!' echoing through their home.

* * *

He never had a sibling before.

Though once- when he was Harry he had allowed himself to imagine what it would be like. Unfortunately he had always imagined a miniature Dudley that would do everything in its power to see him suffer so he had never quite wanted one.

Though now that Nigel had one, he was finding to be nothing like he imagined. Not that it was a bad thing. Actually , if he was honest, it was kind of nice.

Luna- and didn't that name bring back memories- was nothing like Dudley. She was a rather happy child who was always quite eager to learn- though she showed no signs of being another 'Child Genius' to the disappointment of MI6.

* * *

Nigel couldn't find it within himself to care about that though, instead he had fount himself tightly wrapped around her little fingers- much to the amusement of his follow Agents.

Haha laugh it up, why don't you?

He couldn't help it though- she was so small, so fragile and oh so adorable- nor did he want to help it.

He knew his affection was an open weakness but Nigel didn't care.

Anyone who even considered touching his sister-in a harmful way- had better be wearing amour- not that it would do them much good- cause Nigel Tux would be personally coming for their head.

* * *

No matter how many book, Tom Riddle had fount himself going through it was almost impossible to find out exactly how he had a connection with the Emerald eyed Ravenclaw.

If he didn't know better the Slytherin would have sworn Tux was a Horcrux and not just any but that of his own.

It was the only logical explanation, except at the same time it was highly impossible.

To make a Horcrux one had to commit murder and spit a part of their soul away to be sealed into an object. And while he had killed recently- he was still certain the Russian Ravenclaw had been behind Warren's death more he was- Tom Riddle had tied that broken part of his soul to his dairy, not another human.

Which left Riddle with a dilemma , if Tux wasn't a Horcrux then what was he?

What was their connection?

And how had it been forged?

Sadly those answers were currently out of his reach since Dumbledore- the damn meddling fool- had saw fit to once again trap him in this horrible muggle orphanage.

_Still_, the dark hair boy smirked to himself as he laid back on his bed,_ he always had next year and if he played a more aggressive front he was bound to retrieve the answers he sought sooner then later. _

* * *

_~Somewhere in Russia~_

A rouge haired child couldn't help but pause in his work as a frown fount its way to his face.

Strange...

"Is something wrong Red?'

The Count's voice cut through the air as he noticed his protégé had stopped working on the rocket.

After a brief pregnant pause said rouge hair child finally fount a way to explain his thoughts to the elder.

"I think someone wants me to kill them."

Why else would he get the feeling someone out there was going to do something involving his Spy that would severally piss him off?

After a brief moment of silence the Russian shook his head, utterly dismissing the feeling- no one could possibly be that stupid-before focusing his attention back on their latest project.

He choose to bluntly ignore the knowingly gleam in the Count's watchful eyes- as a Philosopher the man always looked too deep into certain matters.


	37. Chapter 37

_**~Fifth Year~**_

_Apparently there was someone that stupid._

Red couldn't help but think as the Slytherin openly flirted with Nigel in front of him. Couldn't he tell the Spy wanted nothing- let alone to be alone- with him?

_Tell him no_, the Russian thought angry as he glared at the white haired teen, as though somehow he could transfer his thoughts to the Brit.

"I'm flattered."

_**Snap!** _

Hearing the noise the Rouge haired teen glanced down only to find the silverware he had been holding was snapped cleanly in two, carefully placing the two halves back on the table the Russian reached for his glass. Something strong would probably help him calm down.

"And what time did you say?"

**Crunch!**

God damn it!

Placing down the broken goblet, the golden eyed teen gripped the table tightly as he tried to reign in the urge to throttle Riddle here and now- who the fuck cared if he had an audience?

* * *

It probably wasn't all that nice what he was doing- and probably not that safe either, but he could handle Riddle, maybe, if he got out of hand- yet Nigel had to be honest, as it sure as hell was amusing.

Finally the younger seemed to have reached his limit as he swiftly made his way to his feet and glared down at the elder teen.

"Can I speak to you for a minute?"

Slowly emerald eyes moved from the imprints of the smaller's hands on the table to that burning golden eye.

"Of Course. "

Standing, Nigel grabbed his pack and followed the raging Russian out of the Great Hall.

* * *

He was not angry.

Nyet. Whatever could give you that idea?

He was just...Righteously upset.

He just needed to calm down, that was all, of course it hadn't help to calm him down when Riddle thought he was entitled to follow them. And why ever would he be angry over such a small little thing?

Nyet. Red was not angry.

"Red he can't breathe! You're going to kill him!"

The rouge's hands tightened further around the damn Slytherins throat as the other thrashed about underneath him in a futile gesture.

"That's the point."

The Russian all but snarled as he watched Riddle's face turn a dark blue-ish-purple shade with extreme satisfaction.

Nyet, Red wasn't angry. He was furious.

* * *

Blood colored eyes watch in open annoyance as the Ravenclaw he was attempting to charm left next to the Russian to discuss something or another.

Not one to be dismissed- especially when he was finally getting somewhere- Tom Riddle cast both a delusion and silence spell upon himself before following to two to a almost always deserted part of the castle.

Theories ran erupt in the Slytherins mind as for what possible reasons the two could have for coming here.

A secret pet?

An unsupervised potion?

Family magic?

Secret magic?

Maybe even Dark magic?

Eagerly he had observed the two, just waiting for whatever secret they would unknowingly tell him.

Only what he had acquired was not something he had expected.

With an inhuman snarl, the golden eyed Ravenclaw had spun on heel and lunged at him- even managing to knock him down- as the rouge wrapped his delicate looking hands tightly around the stunned Slytherins throat in a unforgiving vice grip.

The Slytherin had tried to knock the younger looking male off of him but it appeared the Ravenclaw was stronger then Tom had first thought as everything he tried ended up with the same result:

Futile.

For the first time in years Tom Marvolo Riddle feared for his life as it became painfully clear t Russian wasn't letting go until he was nothing more then a cooling corpse at the smaller's feet.

The last thing the future dark lord recalled seeing was the Paranoid Hufflepuff and the Ravenclaw he had tried seducing pulling the rather feral looking Russian off of him before everything faded into sweet oblivion.

* * *

"You were flirting with him for a month Tux!"

Sighing softly, Buck Rockgut glanced to the ceiling of his Arch Nemesis and Rival's ceiling as the two continued onwards with their argument.

Really he had know the Nancy Cat was asking for trouble the moment he had started playing that Game with the Slytherin.

Though he was surprised at the level of control The Russian had used to hold himself together for so long, he was certain the smaller would snap after a week of it not a month.

"You're acting like a jealous prat Red!"

Really? He still hadn't figured it out?

What else did he need the Russian -Wave around a giant neon colored flag with bright glittered words declaring his affections to the world?- to do before the rather obvious- at least in this category- spy caught on?

"That's because I am!"

Silence filled the room as two sets of eyes locked onto the Russian, who jabbed a finger roughly into the Nancy Cat's chest.

"You're mine. Rockgut's mine.** I. Do. Not. Share!"**

For a moment brief pregnant pause filled the room as the Russian's lone eye widened slightly in surprise- so he hadn't meant that outburst after all- before the rouge spun on hell and locked himself in the rooms bathroom.

* * *

He hadn't meant that.

Well...Da, Red did mean every word but he hadn't quite to put I out there. His anger had clouded his judgment and his mind seemed to have forgot the filter to his mouth.

Glaring at the shattered mirror, as though it was its fault, the Russian allowed himself to slid down the bathroom wall and onto the marble flooring.

This was bad. He had bluntly- and tactlessly- confessed how he felt to the spy.

Forget bad, this was fucking horrible. If any of his enemies- let alone his allies- fount out about this...

Well...

Nigel and Rockgut were as good as dead and he was screwed.

What to do? What to do?

* * *

**"Red, Open this door! You can't just throw something like that out at someone and just hide away!"**

A hint of annoyace crept through the spy as he banged on the hard door the Russian had chosen to take shelter behind.

"He'll come out when he's managed to re-gather himself Nancy Cat."

Emerald eyes glanced over to the rather amused looking American sitting just so he was blocking the main door.

"Did you know?"

A single brow rose as the rouge eyed teen spoke, "I'm pretty sure everyone but you did. "

"And you didn't think to tell me?"

"You're the spy here," Rockgut reminded him with an amused tone to his voice, "It was rather obvious anyway."

Great, so everyone knew this but him!

Pausing for a moment the white haired teen allowed himself to think back on his interactions with the Russian.

...

...

How the hell had he managed to overlook this?

Now that he knew what he was looking for it was rather painfully obvious in the way the smaller had reacted around him each and every day.

Steeling himself, the British Spy allowed his gaze to once again fall upon the bathroom door.

Now he defiantly needed to get the Russian out of there.

* * *

He watched the emerald eyed teen steel himself, bracing his shoulders as before the younger rushed for the door.

Much to the American's amusement said door open only moments before the Nancy Cat would hit it causing the emerald eyed teen to plow straight into the surprised Russian who seemed to have finally gathered himself.

Grinning, the American stared down at the two taking note of how the Nancy Cat had managed to fall with both hands on the side of the Russian's face and their lips trapped together.

"You know their are easier and less painful ways to ask someone to kiss you Tux."

Quickly the Nancy Cat pushed himself off of the smaller, bushing darkly as he sputtered out apologizes to the younger before glaring at the smug looking American.

He was never going to let either of them live this down.


	38. Chapter 38

Red wouldn't be returning to Hogwarts for his Six year.

As much as the Russian wanted too, he just didn't have the time between dealing with the Count's Official Retirement, having every damn Agent after his head thanks to his new title as Penguin Enemy Number One and raising his nephew- Seriously? Who's great idea was it to leave a young impressible toddler with someone like him? Surely there was someone more reasonable out there?

It was a shame really but duty and family came before personal pleasures as far as the rouge haired teen was concerned. Thankfully he had been able to take his OWLs and NEWTS over the summer so that was one less things for the Russian villain to worry about. Stil there was this one little issue he had not quite had the chance to deal with:

Telling Rockgut and Nigel.

The Golden Eye teen could already feel his headache building as the mental versions of both Agents ranted and raved violently in his head.

He was not looking forward to that.

* * *

"What do you mean your not coming back?!"

What part of quiet was so hard to understand? Sending his trademark glare at the American Agent, Red tried his best to keep his voice low and hands from throttling the other.

"I don't have time for it. The Count's retiring, everyone wants my head and my nephew; Fred, has been left in my care. "

A choking noise escaped both Agents as they shot the annoyed looking Russian across from them a look of utter disbelief- not that Red blamed them he had quite a similar reaction when it had happened.

"Nephew? I didn't even know you had a sibling! And who in their sane mind would leave you a child? Surely there's someone else?!"

"Nyet," The Rouge haired teen deadpanned, "I looked."

And that Red had, unfortunately the Russian was the only living family member left though it was nice to see how far a vote- or lack- of confidence, in his abilities to raise a child, went with these two. Hell, even the warden for MI6's Building Prison had more faith in him and Thomas had all but told him to do the exact opposite of what he normally would do.

Red still was looking in to how the man even know- and there was no way in Hell he was buying that 'All Knowing' nonsense.

"Do you even know how to care for a child?"

The blank, unamused look the rouge gave the spy was answer enough for the two agents as both their heads simultaneously hit the hard wooden table.

* * *

If there was ever a time Albus Dumbledore had felt so utterly furious and frustrated now was it.

Nothing was going according to his plan and he had completely lost his hold on one of his 'Future Dark Lord' candidates while the other was already gathering followers. Oh how he had tried to gain control back over his stray Ravenclaw but Minister refused to overturn the rouge's OWLs or NEWTS.

The wasn't even the worse of his issues though, Madame Minister- better known as Sarah Jenkins- was asking far too many questions including how the Russian even managed to get an invention to Hogwarts when he should have gone to Koldovstoretz- The Russian aquavit to Hogwarts for Young Sorcerers, Elementist, and Warlocks. The school was highly famous for its successful teachings of Magic Dumbledore himself had managed to get outlawed in Britain under the usage of 'Dark Magic'.

If that wasn't bad enough, 'Madame Minister' had somehow meet young Tom Riddle and like so many before her was charmed by the boy. To make matters worse though, the damn woman actually believed Riddle over him- of course the boy was telling the truth but Dumbledore wasn't used to other's nosing into his plans or actually his pawn's story.

The damn bloody woman, she was a prime example of why woman shouldn't be allowed power or control over anything more then a their households.

The Wizarding World would soon be acquiring a new Minister at the rate she was going.

Maybe another one of his pawns that wouldn't think twice without his approval would be better suited for the position?

* * *

He was never having any children. Never Ever for all eternity, of that the rather annoyed looking Russian swore as he forced himself not to lose his temper.

The Devil...Err.. His nephew was just a toddler. He didn't know better.

With a forced calmness, the rouge haired teen placed the small package of misery- Joy, he completely meant joy- inside the sink before reaching over for a towel to clean his face of the child's throw up.

_Note to Self: Restrain from throwing the child up and down despite how much the little one seemed to enjoy it._

**_Crash!_**

Jumping slightly as a knife appeared in hand, the rouge hair teen spin on heel as his lone eye searched for whoever was trying to acquire his head now. Only to freeze as the sound of giggling.

Slowly a lone golden eye focused on the small boy- who had somehow gotten half way out of the sink- and the Russian's favorite glass shattered upon the floor. For a moment the child's hazel eyes focused on the rouge hair villain before a large grin fount its way to the younger's face as his small little hands reached for the next glass on the shelf- which was just within the toddler's reach.

"Don't you fuc-"

_**Crash!**  
_

With a swift course of action the rouge purposely ignored the shattered glass shards crouching beneath his feet as nibble hands swiftly swooped up the child, unfortunately the toddler had already managed to shattered four other china glasses by them.

Scowling, a lone golden eye glared down at the rather innocent looking child in his hold, who quietly stared back for a moment as small hands grabbed at the air.

_Now that he wasn't breaking everything- or throwing up on him- the little one did look rather adorable..._

Though that thought was swiftly swept from the Russian's mind as one of the boy's hands managed to grab ahold to his eye patch and yanked it back only to let go a split second later.

Elsewhere throughout the base several Mice- placed in charge of silently looking after their Boss's son- froze as a cry of pain and a shout of _'You Damn Devil Child! Go back to Hell!'_ rang through the building.


	39. Chapter 39

Now that he thought back on it, Nigel really should have known something was up.

Honestly his rather run down looking Russian had all but skipped inside that jail cell while actually smiling- of all things!- with a crazed look in his eye and all but singing 'Freedom' over and over.

Of course, at the time the British Spy had placed all thought of it all down to stress.

The younger always had a bad habit of forgetting to eat or sleep when he worked, it had probably finally caught up to him. A quick rest and the Russian would snap back to his old self. Nigel had honestly expected the younger to break out of the prison in a matter of days and yet it had already been two weeks and Red was showing no signs of possible escapes.

Of course that may have something to do with the Devil Child that was the younger's Ward and Nephew.

A Devil Child who was currently in the Spy's care and driving the emerald eyed man insane.

How could such a sweet, innocent looking child be so vile?

Sure the Lad was related to Red, but the white haired teen was certain not even the rouge haired villain was born this evil.

Within the past two days alone the Devil Child had shattered all the fine china in the kitchen, set the drapes on fire- how he managed to get a lighter Nigel knew Dylan had in a safe was beyond him- twice, Threw up on anyone every time they tried to feed him, somehow tore every suit Nigel owned, ruined the couches, utterly wrecked his garden- He was seriously beginning to consider the fact the Devil may also have inherited magic- and was the reason both Dylan and Nigel had broken every finger on their left hands.

The Lad was the Devil, there was no other way to describe him.

It defiantly made Red's attitude towards spending time in a prison cell all the more reasonable. The rouge was practically taking a resort vacation in there while the Spy was stuck out here with the Devil pretending to be a toddler.

"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?"

The Spy asked the rather bubbly looking toddler. His only answer was a bright smile and playful giggles.

God help him.

* * *

"Nyet! You can't make me!"

"Damn it Squirrel, the release papers are already signed! You can't stay here!"

"Watch me!"

Shaking his head, Agent Dylan watched in amusement as his son and Rockgut tried to pry the rouge from his cell.

Really he never thought he would live to see the day someone actually **wanted** to stay in prison but then again, considering the Demon Child- who was all but bouncing out of the elder spy's arms- waiting for the rouge who could blame him?

Still, Dylan didn't go through all the trouble of getting the rouge released only for the smaller to refuse.

The Russian would be leaving today- with the little Demon- even if Dylan himself had to throw the rouge out. And then, he and Nigel would be free- sweet glorious freedom- at long last!

* * *

It was finally asleep.

Collapsing onto the floor, the rouge haired villain pulled his knees to his chest as to use them for a headrest.

_What was this child's issue?_

Not even he had been like this through his Terrible Two's- which was saying something for anyone who knew him during those stages- as the Count had labeled them.

Who Fucking cared what they were called, all the Russian wanted to know was how he could Fast-forward or Mute this stage before his nephew drove him insane- even more then he already was. Why didn't children just come with a Manual or some sort of Guide?

Was that too much to ask for?

* * *

_~Six Year~_

Though Nigel fount himself reluctant to admit it, Hogwarts just wasn't the same without that Damn Russian around.

Dumbledore was utterly bonkers, Riddle was starting to recruit his little Death Eaters, Abraxas was starting a cult consisting of all the people who lives Red had made a living Hell- who would have guess it was that simple to create a religion?

All in all it was promising to be a rather dull and boring year. At least that's what the Spy assumed and it probably would have if a meddling old man had keep to his plans to himself.

Unfortunately Albus Dumbledore was never one to allow one of his plans to fall out of hand that easily.


	40. Chapter 40

The blathering old fool must take him for an idiot.

Red couldn't help but scowl as his eye moved slowly over the faded parchment laying harmless upon his desk.

It was a rather deceptive and sugarcoated letter offering him a job but the Russian had always been rather good at deciphering other's hidden intents- a rather useful trait that had even managed to save his life once. And as far as the rouge was concerned the старый ублюдок may as well have just came out and said he considered Red a pawn and didn't want said pawn out of reach.

Well either that or he was indirectly trying to kill him. Both were a rather plausible option really.

Sighing softly, a lone golden eye glanced at his sleeping nephew as it's owner considered his options.

On one hand he could accept the position and gain a closer eye on his lovely spy and American- he was not possessive, he just didn't like other's touch what was his- while keeping Dumbledore- and whatever plans the old coot came up with- well within his sight, but on the other if he did accept then he would be bringing his nephew into the old fool's radar.

Then again a castle of unlimited babysitters for his demonic little bundle of joy yet could he really trust strangers- especially those loyal to Dumbledore near- his brother's only child?

Was it worth it? Would the Pros outweigh the Cons?

Would the results be worth it? What if something went wrong?

He'd never be able to face his brother again- in any life or afterlife for that matter- if something happened to the child while it was in his care.

Sighing softly the rouge allowed his head to hit the desk with a heavy thud.

Everything was so much easier when it was only his own health at risk instead of that of a -semi- innocent child as well.

* * *

Everything was going according to plan.

He had fashioned himself a new name, one that would be feared and known throughout all of England in due time. One that wasn't so plain and prevalent as the one he inherited from his filthy muggle father.

He had already established several high end connections -preach the right words and anyone would follow- and built his inner circle- consisting of only those he trusted with his very life.

His immortality was all but granted- though he would have to find a way of insuring it was better secured then what it already was. Maybe another Horcrux would do the trick?

He had managed to convince Grindelwald to stay out of England for some time so that way the new Dark Lord had a chance to rise to power.

...Well almost everything.

Crimson eyes narrowed as they move across the Great Hall as their owner searched for the snowy hair that was the source of one of his new found issues.

Nigel Tux, the Ravenclaw who he had yet to make any real progress on.

Sure he knew a few thing but there was so many others concerning the emerald eyed teen that just didn't add up.

For one their was their connection, that by all rights shouldn't exist.

Then there was the issue of how the other already seemed to know about his 'Cult'.

Was it possible there was a leak? It couldn't possibly be from within his inner circle so it had to be one of the outer circle if so.

The unexplainable anonymity towards Dumbledore- though it was nice o know someone else wasn't fooled by the old coot's charade.

Nothing about the Ravenclaw added up in a way that made any sense. It was like working on a gagged puzzle that was missing the key pieces.

Then there was the Hufflepuff- and dare he say it: Abraxas'_ friend_. Despite making a bit more sense then his Ravenclaw counterpart just thinking about the complex situation concerning that one left Riddle with an agonizing headache.

Already the dark haired Hufflepuff was corrupting other with his over paranoid tendencies. One of the more famous know case was a young first year named Alastor Moody, who was rapidly becoming a Mini-Rockgut. Dealing with one was hard enough on a daily basics- especially when trying to lure them to your side- but two?

Merlin save them all.

* * *

Life without Red around was quite dull and utterly boring-Riddle didn't count as the teen was quite used to yearly accouters with the Future Dark Lord- though Nigel would firmly deny thinking so till the end of his days.

No kidnapping.

No surprise booby-traps.

No Random attacks.

No fighting.

No more being beaten into the ground or beating the other into it.

No more Secret Dark Art Studies.

No more late night talks.

Life was dull and void, filled with a hollowed out emptiness that the Spy couldn't explain.

It was strange how once he had only desired such a life but now that he had it the emerald eyed teen wished he could turn back the clock and stop his Russian adversary from even thinking of graduating before them.

He needed those precious moments back and though Rockgut did try- and they did fight over every little thing- it wasn't the same.

A part of the spy couldn't help but wonder if it was possible to be addicted to another's presence and if this was what a drug addict felt like when they attempted to go 'cold turkey'.

* * *

An annoyed huff left the Hufflepuff as he gave the white haired teen across from him a deadpanned look.

For the past ten minutes he had been attempting to gain the Nancy Cat's attention yet the other seemed to have lost himself deep within his thoughts with a look of longing upon on his face. Sure he could understand why the other was so off beat, it was a bit dull and boring without their resident Russian to help spice up their lives, but he needed the Nancy Cat to focus.

They had a mission for the upcoming holiday and it would do neither of them any good of his newly assigned partner couldn't focus on their task.

**_"Are you listening to a word I'm saying?!"_**


	41. Chapter 41

She knew he'd come back.

She never once doubted it.

He would always come back to her wither he realized it or not.

Still she hadn't expected him to return with a child on his hip.

* * *

She wasn't his first choice.

Nor his second or evenhis third but Red had to admit she was the best choice.

He didn't want to ask her for anything as he didn't want to owe her anything but taking the child with him was not an option and there were so few he could trust.

Nigel and Rockgut were on their one missions. Knowing those two they had probably managed to get lost -depending on who exactly was leading- and was currently on some cannibalistic island; if he was lucky.

His father was out of reach- hunting down the sorry bastard behind his deteriorating health- and Dylan was hunting down his father.

MI6 had deemed the child the devil and refused to touch it with a hundred foot titanium pole.

The wizards had a war brewing under their very nose and he wanted no part in it so his few companions there were not an option-who knew which Lord they really served.

She was the best option- as he could not bring the child with him for it's own sake - so he locked away his pride with the small voice in the back of his head that was all but screaming for him to abort and run far away as possible.

Licking his desert dry lips the rouge haired man gathered his wits- he would no doubt need them here- before speaking in a calm velvet tone.

"Widow, I find myself in need of your aid. May I come in?"

Not even a moment later he foun himself being pulled into the albino's home-all the while praying whatever God's were out there would have mercy of his darkened soul.

This was one Devil Made Deal he knew he would come to regret.

* * *

He liked her.

The small chocolate brown haired two-year old couldn't help but giggle as he looked at the pretty woman across from him. She had this sort of presence to her that reminded him much of his adult- the rouge hair one with the mismatched eyes- though he personally liked his adult more then the woman.

His adult was funny with his many different expressions and shouted babling yet adorable to watch as his adult all but pulled out his hair in fustration one moment and showered him in the attention he rightfully deserved the next.

Yet sometimes his poor adult got confused and would pale drastically rather then praise him like the time he had decided to copy his adult's shouted babbling. He really couldn't understand why his adult decided to act so strange when he had done his best to copy the rogues babbling of_ 'Fucking Bastards'_.

...

...

Oh well.

His adult was just strange that way sort of like the strange men who looked after his while his adult was away. It was a shame he couldn't stay with them again- he had rather enjoyed using the strange energy to prove to his adult he was a million time superior then them- though now he would have to prove that about the pretty woman as well. Fred wouldn't risk his adult finding something better then him and abandoning him like his other adult- Mother, if he recalled- did.

His adult would stay with him, take care of him- not leaving him for this Death person - and they would be happy.

Shifting slightly as his adult carefully handed him to the woman- and his new obstacle- Fred watched his adult stand before gently ruffing his hair and speaking softly. He couldn't help but giggle softly at how adorable his adult looked, babbling those silly words with a relaxed smile.

A moment later his adult spun slightly in place only to vanish but Fred didn't worry, his adult would be back for him soon enough.

* * *

No plan ever survived meeting the battle field. It was a well known fact as there was far too many obstacles and unknowns for one to properly considered them all.

Hell they hadn't even gotten a chance to put the plan into action! Somehow they had ended up in the South Pole instead of Denmark like they were supposed to.

And if that wasn't bad enough the Russian had somehow tracked them here- even though Rockgut was Damn certain they had foun and removed even tracker the rouge planted on him and the Nancy Cat. A part of him wanted to accuse the Russian of sabotaging them in someway but honestly all three of them knew the only thing the smaller was guilty of was knowing his terrible sense of directionsa little too well- according to the rouge and Nancy Cat at least. There was absolutely nothing wrong with his sense of direction.

Still how the hell did their plan get screwed up this bad?

Was there some sort of dienty out there that purposely lounged around waiting solely for the perfect moment to screw them over in the worst way possible?!

* * *

Well it wasn't cannibals. Honestly Red wasn't certain weather he should be disappointed or annoyed. Cannibals he could deal with- he worked with several on many different occasions and knew how to properly deal with them - frozen wastelands...

Not so much.

Why the Hell could they never get dislocated onto a tropical island or some resort beach for a change?

Nyet. It just had to be the coldest fucking place in the world.

* * *

Some things never changed.

Emerald eyes gleamed within the fading light as their owner watched his Russian and American counterparts argue over the youngers 'foolishness' and what a foolishness it had been; appreciating from Russia to The South Pole.

Honestly what had Red been thinking? He could have killed himself with a stunt like that. Yet the smaller male was proud and stubborn, insisting he was utterly fine and could easily do it again.

Of course neither Nigel nor Rockgut had any thoughts of allowing the rouge to tempt fate once more- they had enough issues as it was without having to hunt down splintered ,lost or forgotten body parts.

He also was worried that the rouge body wouldn't be able to hadle to strain. He couldn't...

No, he wouldn't risk it not with his Russian already in such a difficult and unstable position concerning his rather fickle health.

"Why you..."

An amused smirk twisted onto the spy's face as he watched the two teenagers shuffle around in the snow, each trying to defend their own wounded pride.

Some things never Changed and with luck they never would.


	42. Chapter 42

Cold.

He was freezing here and unfortunately his animagus form would not help him within this frozen wasteland.

Shivering softly, the rouge hair villain pulled his tail tighter around him.

That damn Rockgut shoving snow down his shirt.

Sure the American may not have minded it when the rouge had shoved it down the American's shirt in revenge, but not everyone could turn into a penguin at will.

He wasn't a Penguin like the two Agents but a Squirrel, a Red Squirrel, and anyone with half a brain cell could tell you that Squirrels did not belong in artic wastelands like these.

Already he could feel the slight affects it was having on his already questionable health:

The slight tightening in his chest

The darkened tint just within his vision

The sharp pain behind his eye.

God, he needed to get out of here soon but he couldn't just leave the two Agents- no matter how much he was currently tempted too.

Speaking of idiots...

A golden eye shifted down onto the shadow casted onto the snow before him- one he was quite certain wasn't his own.

"If that's snow in your hands I will kill you."

A moment later, panic flooded the rouge as he felt something wrap firmly around his throat.

* * *

Nigel couldn't help but grin slightly as he watched surprise flood the smaller's golden eye even as the tension faded from the rouge's being. It was a bit saddening really, to know why the panic had struck the rouge in the first place but he didn't allow his mind to linger on it as he watched small delicate fingers carefully trace over the scarf's fabric.

If only those fingers would move over him like that...

Shaking his head the spy banished the fault as the rouge eye moved onto him.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

A single sliver brow rose as emerald eyes locked onto the Russian.

"Why do you- Don't you need this?"

"Not really. As adorable as I'm sure it would be you need it more then I do."

"What makes you say that?"

"You were shivering," The spy deadpanned before a spark of mischief entered his emerald eyes as he leaned in closer to the smaller, "You know though If you don't want it, I can think of another way to keep you warm. "

It was adorable really, watching how fast the rouge's face matched his hair as the younger burrowed deeper into the scarf- almost as if expecting the fabric to shelter him from more then the artic chill.

Taking a breath as he made up his mind, the spy reached a hand out and pulled the smaller flush against him before instantly wrapping his arms tightly around the smaller so he couldn't rush away. He probably looked like some creep right then with a rather unstable grin on his face as he held the smaller tightly to him despite the younger's obvious struggle to get out of his hold...

Eh, Red probably didn't mean it...

Or was acting more on instinct...

Possibly embarrassment if the sudden expression the smaller wore was to be counted into factor. He'd calm down in a bit.

If the rouge really wanted him to let go, Nigel had little to no doubt the younger would have stabbed him by now.

* * *

_Too Close. Too Close. _

_Abort. Abort. _

_Run!_

Only he couldn't run, the spy had a grip of steel and was rather determined not to loosen it anytime soon. Therefore there was only one real thing the Russian could do:

_Calm down. _

Well that or suffer a mild panic attack. Calming down seemed much more reasonable though.

It was a bit easier said then done, especially with the way the older was nuzzling his neck and those hands were caressing his sides and tail.

Now that he reconsidered it, Panicking sounded very reasonable right now. At least then it could soundly distract him from his own morbid embarrassment.

"Are you two done?"

Was it too much to ask for the world to just open up and swallow him whole?

"Now Now. No need to be jealous," though he couldn't see it Red could all but hear the Spy's smirk within the tones of his teasing voice, "You're more then welcome to join us. "

Or possibly erase him from existence? He wasn't feeling very picky at this very moment.

* * *

"You know I might just take you up on that offer."

Rockgut couldn't help but smirk as he watched the Nancy Cat stiffen and the Russian try his damnest to will himself invisible.

Usually he would have shot the Nancy Cat down but lhe was in a rather good mood today probally due to all that time he had spent running around in his animgus form: A Rockhopper Penguin.

Still even all that...Training had yet to ware off his excess energy. Who was he to turn down an offer of not one delicious looking morsel but two?

Who knew maybe the Nancy Cat would learn to be more careful with his words and not offer anyone else up without their permission?

...

...

Eh. Not likely but it wasn't his fault if the Nancy Cat kept dragging their Russian into his messes.

* * *

Warm.

Comfortable.

Cozy.

Well Nigel hadn't been lying, though Red wasn't quite certain if that was a good thing or a bad just yet. The only real thing he was certain of was that Penguins made comfortable objects to cuddle with. Just small enough to hold with no sharp edges or flat pillow linings.

_Cute and Cuddly..._

They should make it a motto. But maybe with another Generation.

Even with his mind half asleep Red knew better then to voice his thoughts, as he had no intentions to deal with Rockgut trying to protect his_ manly pride_ this early in the morning.

Especially after such a...lovely night.

Speaking of lovey nights, where was Nigel? If that bastard ran off- after being the sole reason Red was dragged into this little issue, he was going to-

"Good Morning Love~ I got us breakfast."

Never mind.

The scent was absolutely heavenly and hunger far out ruled any rage the Russian may have previous felt towards the British Spy.

Maybe they were onto something about him being bipolar but honestly who could stay mad at the Spy once they had some of his homemade cooking- when he wasn't screwing around and trying to poison it to get at you. Even if it was poisoned the food was well worth the later discomfort.


	43. Chapter 43

He knew there was a reason he liked her.

Unlike the others trying to steal his adult she didn't fall for his childish antics. Nor did she get angry when he used his strange energy to cause mishaps at ever turn. Instead of rushing about in a panicked furry the pretty woman had laughed and spoken strange words of encouragement. She could even make her own strangeness happen, with her own strange energy- only her's seemed more intentional then his own. Though, even in his mind. she looked utterly ridiculous waving a stick around- even if it was a pretty stick.

Still, it was utterly beautiful. Even when they managed to accidentally burn down her house in their excitement.

He had thought it before and he would happily think it again:

He liked her, even if she was a threat.

And what was better was the fact she seemed to like his adult - obviously someone else besides himself could finally see how utterly amazing his adult was- thankfully his adult didn't seem to notice. Even if he liked the pretty lady and her talent for destruction he wasn't willing to part with any of his adult's time. His silly adult didn't have time for the both of them after all. Not within their already tight routine:

His adult waking and dressing him every morning before feeding him while humming a pretty rhythm, burping and rocking him, cuddling with him before nap time. Story time and nap time itself, another round of cuddles when he woke up and Lunch. Then a surprise bath time- where his silly adult would try cleaning him while avoid getting wet. His silly adult just didn't understand getting wet was half the fun- before story time and play time. More cuddles before he was given to the strange men in white while his adult did something, he would proceed to escape the strange men and play explorer while avoiding the men until either caught him-in which he would scream and cry while throwing his strange energy at them until they finally get him his adult again- or his adult would find him.

His adult would proceed to clean him up followed by another story time which always seemed to turn into a nap time. When he would wake dinner would be ready and he and his adult would eat their separate foods before another bath time, a second play time and finally more cuddling. He always fell asleep on his adult and they would do the same thing again the next day.

See?

There was absolutely no room for the pretty lady and he wasn't sharing any of his time with his adult. If he did his adult might forget to cuddle him, or read to him in his funny sounds, or find him when he escaped the strange men, or worse:

Stop taking naps with him.

Speaking of which his silly adult was going to owe him even more cuddles if that silly older looking copy of the pretty one kept pulled his cheek one more time...

* * *

Honestly, the rouge had expected to hear screaming, pleading and begging. He had expected the annual chaos that seemed to follow his young nephew. He had expected yelling and to have young Fred thrown like the devil himself.

He had expected a lot of things really, as with time, he had come to deal with a multiple of reactions concerning the return of his devil spawn nephew- some which he would rather not repeat for both of their physical and mental heaths. What he had not expected was to have the small bundle of terror replaced by what seemed to be a rather adorable girl.

For a moment the rouge was certain Widow had lost his Ward and stolen another's child in hopes that he wouldn't noticed- Maybe the Gods had finally decided to have pity on him?- but that dream was soon crushed as a pair of small hands managed to grab his eyepatch- he really had to stop letting the devil spawn that close to his face- before yanking back on it and letting go.

The innocent childish laughter was just salts to open wounds as the Russian decided to show off the wide variety of his rather colorful language.

The Damn brat. He officially took back any and all positive thoughts he had ever considered labeling the Demon with. He was not cute, he was not adorable, nor cuddly, nor tolerable. He was pure evil incarnated and he cursed it into the darkest depths of hell where it belongs.

And this time he meant it. He would not apologize later. Nor would he buy the little monster a new toy, book or clothes.

This time he fully meant it...

Those wide innocent eyes wouldn't work on him this time...

He could easily ignore that hopeful gaze and the small pout...

...

...

As a small set of lips gently placed a rather sloppy kiss on his cheek followed by a blinding smile and familiar eyes that just seemed to sparkle with joy the Russian couldn't help but slouch into himself.

Fuck.

"I forgive you this time but next time it will not work."

Next time...

Hopefully there would be no next time but on the off chance he would not allow himself to cave again...

What? He was being serious here...

Hearing the soft chuckles, a lone golden eye darted around the room, taking in the many smiles and amused gleams within usually artic eyes. Instantly the rouge could tell no one believed him but that was okay:

He didn't believe himself either.


	44. Chapter 44

This had to be a joke.

"He wants you to teach?"

Emerald eyes moved over towards their rouge haired nemesis, disbelief clearly visible for a change, as a lone golden eye pierced him with a mild annoyance.

"Da."

As Harry he had always suspsected Dumbledore was a few bristles short of a broom but he had always figured it to have been due to the massive amount of bleach he likely dumped his head in to get his hair that perticular shade, or even old age. Thoose had both been reasonable excuses he would have easily bought, but now...

Now it was painfully obvious Albus Dumbledore had always been as Mad as the Hatter himself- if not more. Either that or he throughly enjoyed indirrectly toturing students...

Hmm...

He had hired Snape and he appreatently wanted Red- who Nigel was quite certain would commit Mass Murder before the introduction was complete- so it was possible..

"You're not going to accept are you? I mean you have Fred to look after."

And Heaven only knew he didn't want that Devil Spawn near him everyday for a whole year.

"I already refused for those very same reasons."

For a moment Nigel could feel his tension ease. Thank God he wouldn't have to deal with the Demon Child or worry about Red commiting mass murder.

"But _Dumbledore_ has offered the castle as a _'stable' _place to raise Fred while I work."

If it wasn't for the venom in the russian's voice Nigel may have actually allowed a breif surge of panic to fill him.

* * *

The first chance he got Red swore he was taking Fred and getting out of this God Damn Country.

Don't get him wrong, he actually liked England about as much as he liked Mother Russia but...Well...

Wizards, more specifically:

Albus _'Possibly Evil Mastermind Under Guise of Grandfather Figure'_ Dumbledore.

The coot was an annoyance, one the Russian fount himself eagerly wishing to squash but he wasn't quite able to...Yet.

Not only that but the Damn Bastard had the nerve to tell him how to raise his nephew. How cared if his father was considered 'Dark' by English term? They were Russian for God's Sake, the didn't even fall under this country's 'Ministry of Magic' It gave the old coot no right to try sticking his oversize nose in their lives.

Neither he nor Fred needed to be "_rescued and guided towards the Light that had for so long been denied to them."_

Red was no idiot. He was rather talented at reading people and the true intents. He was no one's marionette nor would he allow his kin to be dragged into a delusional old man's game of chess.

And to ensure that, the rouge had purchased an animagus potion for his nephew.

After all, anyone looking for a Russian wizard and his nephew would never look twice at a pair of squirrels in America. With luck they would all assume he had returned to Mother Russia and drop the matter.

* * *

Everything was slowly falling into place.

The name and ideas of _Lord Voldemort _had been spread upon the Pure Bloods and his work was slowly beginning to show rather natural results as Wizards from the Light and Dark families picked their sides.

His influence and power over was expanding like a growing empire.

Everything was perfect for Tom Marlavo Riddle...Well not everything.

Once again Dumbledore was sticking his overly large, crooked nose into matters he shouldn't. The Russian Ravenclaw had slipped through his fingers by graduating early with some of the highest scores Hogwarts had ever seen.

The American Hufflepuff was obviously going to be a Neutral in the incoming War- if he stuck around long enough for the war, that is.

And then there was his biggest issue:

Nigel Tux.

The Obviously Light Ravenclaw who somehow held an impossible connection to him.

A part of Riddle wanted nothing more than to kill the emerald eye enigma -since it was obvious he couldn't sway the white haired Ravenclaw to his side- but his long time fear of Death held him back. If his theory was correct the Ravenclaw was housing a piece of his very soul- how said Ravenclaw got it was beyond him. He was quite certain he didn't give it to him or try killing him for that matter.

If Lady Luck was kind the emerald eyed Ravenclaw would leave the Wizarding World as soon as possible and stay out of the war and if not...

Well the Dark Lord would have to ensure none of his Death Eaters ever attacked Tux. After all the teenager was his key to immortality.

* * *

"What do you mean he's gone?"

"Gone. Not here. He left the bloody country with his nephew without so much as a _'By your leave'._"

"What did you do?"

"**ME?!** I'll have you know I had nothing to do with this. I didn't even know he was gone until I went to go visit him and Fred. The whole bloody place was deserted and he left his usual message."

Okay maybe neither of them were taking this as well as they should have; after all many people threw a bloody party hearing their Arch Nemesis was gone instead of arguing with the counterpart over why they weren't the idea of Red just up and vanishing was unnerving.

Every time he pulled the Vanishing Act it took them years to find him and by then there was no telling what he could have done. It was best when he was around and they could keep track of him- and no, he wasn't saying that just so he knew where the rouge was like an over possessive boyfriend. Nor was it so he could drag the smaller into his bed whenever he was highly upset with the rouge. Honest!

Red just couldn't be trusted alone for long. He was unstable and legally insane with a rather large fixation on destroying humanity. And now that he knew magic the rouge would likely be even worse then before.

It was for the sake of humanity that he kept Red nearby- even if that meant keeping Rockgut around- after all he was making a noble sacrifice solely to protect the world.

Honest!


	45. Chapter 45

America.

Land of the Free, Home of the Brave.

A place where dreams and success comes to life on a daily basics- or so they say.

Honestly the rouge didn't care about any of that. He had fought for his freedom, his dreams and his newfound success.

Unfortuanetly all success came with unsavory conquences- namely the attraction of a group of local Penguins who were already grating on his last nerves. It seems no matter what species he was or what he was doing those annoynaces would always find him.

One of these days they would likely be the death of him-

"Uncle Wed the tishen's on fiwe again."

If Fred didn't beat them to it.

* * *

The war was starting, of that Nigel knew without a doubt.

Already the first of what was destined to be many subtitle attacks had started within the Non-Magical community.

The small fraction of him that was Harry wanted nothing more then to rush out there and start fighting but he wasn't that Harry anymore. He was a proud spy with no intention on rushing off for a suicidal mission.

He couldn't fight this, not the Gryffindor way at least. If he wanted to do anything to lower the causalities he would have to play this the way Dylan had taught him to.

Out of sight and from the shadows.

Better known as the Slytherin way.

Therefore the first thing he would need is information only Harry had.

Information locked somewhere within his own mind.

Hopefully he had studied enough Occlumency to actually reach it- Heavens knew that even in his mind he would likely drift to sleep if he had to listen to every lecture or history listen he ever heard again.

Better to just find it as quickly as possible and get out of there.

* * *

This wasn't right.

It wasn't bloody possible.

Staring down at the smiling- oh all so familiar child- Nigel couldn't help but question why a six year old Tom Riddle was all too happy wrapping arms around his waist. Let alone why the Slytherin was within what the British Spy knew to be his own mind.

For a moment the emerald eyed teens mouth moved but no sounds left as he tried to gather his wits and figure out how the bloody hell this was possible.

After all he knew for a fact Tom Riddle- self titled: Lord Voldemort- was no child and very much active within the Wizarding and Non Magical comminutes at this very moment.

"Its about time you got here! Do you know how bloody long I was waiting for you to visit?"

The child asked with a hint of annoyance in his voice as he puffed out his cheeks.

"You were waiting here for me?"

"Of course I have you Ignoramus! At first I thought you were ignoring me before I realized you didn't even know I was here. So I tried getting your attention but you still didn't notice me!"

Wh-

"What type of vessel are you?"

Wait... What?

Vessel?!

* * *

If there was such thing as poetic justice this was likely it.

Hell he could already hear Francis's laughter inside him physcotic mind as the rouge squirrel ran himself ragged trying to prevent his -either fearless or utterly reckless -nephew from getting himself killed.

_**BOOM!** _

The Russian stumbled slightly as the ground shook under his feet.

Scratch that.

The kit was obviously trying to kill them both. When he got his hands on that little terror...

He'd teach that blasted Demon to break into -let alone play around- in his lab.


	46. Chapter 46

_October 31, 1981_

It was just supposed to be a simple shortcut, that was it, nothing more.

Yet the Russian really should have known better, nothing was simple in his life; not even a short cut through those cookie cutter houses the dull- though they preferred normal- people of Little Whinging, Surrey were so proud of.

It probably would have stayed a simple shortcut if the rouge haired man had chose to cross any other yard besides that of Number Four Private Drive. Yet as the fate would have it, the Russian villain chose exactly that yard to cross that chilly November night.

And it was there he had spotted it, that small little blue bundle resting upon the doorstep.

Surely that wsn't what he thought it was. No one could possibly be that irrestponacle, right?

Knealing down the russian had carefully pulled away a part of the bundle- which he now knew to be blankets, rather thin and burnt once at that.

"Fuck."

The Russian allowed the fist thing he thought to slip through his lips as he stared down at the small infant- proablly no more then a year old- he had stumbled upon.

There was something strangly familiar about the child.

His hair was the color of the starless night and eyes a shade of unearthly emerald Red had only seen on one other person. Noticing the small child beginning to stir the rouge haired man quickly picked it up, pulling the thin cover tighter around it as he held the bundle firmly to his chest.

Who in their sane mind left a child - was he even old enough to be considered a child?- on a doorstep in late November with only a small thin- mostly burnt- blanket?

* * *

"Have you shown him to Rockgut yet?"

Nigel asked as he allowed his eyes to narrow slightly.

"Nyet. I was on my way to the meeting place when I stumbled across him."

Good. Then he could still sabataged this issue.

"We need to put him back."

"What?"  
A rather sharp and dangerous undertone had entered the Russian voice as his grip tightened potectively on the young infant. There was no way in hell he was this small innocent child back on that doorstep, especially after what he had read in that damn letter.

"We Cannot Keep Him. "

With a soft scoff Red turned his back to the Spy.

"You maybe. But I don't see why I can't. I have plenty of time and experience. "

"This isn't about want. Its about necessaries Red! You cannot keep him!"

That lone golden eyes glared poison worse then any basilisk at him as the Russian turned his back onto the spy and began to walk away.

"Watch me."

Nigel was never quite proud of what he did next but the very time line depended on it.

If Red took his past self there was no telling on what could change. He needed the time line to remain the same -and for that he had to be raised by the Dursley- that way his past self would fall through the Veil of Death which in turn would create the man he was.

If he allowed the Russian to take and raise him there was the chance he would never fall through the Veil, never be adopted by Dylan, Never become Nigel and eventually cease to exist. That was something he couldn't allow.

"Stupefy!"

The moment the word left his lip Red had spun on heel but it was too late as the curse slammed into the Russian's chest.

Moving the the smaller's down form, Nigel knelt down and pried his younger self from the frozen death grip.

"I'm sorry but this isn't something I can risk you changing."

Standing he pointed his wand into the smaller's face, watching silently for a brief moment as emotions- anger, disbelief, pain, fury- raged in that lone golden eye.

"Obliviate."

He wasn't proud of his actions as he stole the last three hours of the Russian's life- just to be safe - from the smaller.

After dragging the other into the underbrush nearby, Nigel headed back to Number Four Private Drive, laying his past self and Dumbledore's letter- okay, so he had pickpocketed the Russian as well- back on the doorstep before casting a warming charm on the charred blanket and leaving without another look back.

* * *

He was forgetting something.

Red wasn't sure how he knew, a gut feeling really, but the very fact he could have forgotten something that was important enough to nag him constancy bothered the rouge.

It had all started when he had woken in an underbrush just outside of Little Whinging- unable to recall how he had ended up there- with what looked to be a torn off part of a child's blanket in his stiff- why was his hands to stiff?- fist.

Why was he in Little Whinging?

Why had he been stuffed in an underbrush?

What was he doing with part of a child's blanket?

Then something else hit him.

He was late!

Rockgut had called a meeting for...Somewhere, he couldn't quite remember where last night. And judging from the sun it was almost midday- had he really spent that long trying to piece things together?

Forcing his way to his feet- seriously why was he so stiff today?- the Russian dug around in his pockets hoping to find a memo or something that would have the meetings location.

He would worry about the sudden blank- and rather unnerving- spot in his usually Eidetic memory later.


	47. Chapter 47

Guilt was rapidly becoming a familiar emotion.

I knew what I did was unforgivable but in my defense I had no other options left. The Russian was a stubborn bastard who unfortunately seemed to always get in my way even when he had no intent to do so.

It reminded me much of myself when I was still Harry to be honest; Only the rouge was a darker, rage driven version then a clueless child who made it his personal duty to be involved in every Life or Death Situation there was.

Maybe if things had been different, if Dylan hadn't been there that first day I would have ended up the same way? I could have fallen down and blindly stumbled along the same path the rouge willing walked every day.

If only the rouge had listened.

If Red had just stayed away or put back my younger self.

If only he wasn't so damn stubborn.

If only the rouge stayed a selfish bastard and only cared for himself like many assumed he did, maybe then things could have been different.

Maybe then I wouldn't be feeling like the lowest piece of scum there was?

Still watching the smaller stumble into the assigned meeting area with sharp eye narrowed and stray pieces of the underbrush tangled into his messy hair brought back the cloud of guilt, concern and slight fear.

I had little to no doubt the rouge would kill me if he ever discovered I was screwing with his already fragile mind. I would likely loose wheat little bit of trust and care I had managed to attain from the rouge over the years. He'd probably go out of his way to avoid or anger me. Knowing Red, he would raise Hell itself before disappearing form my life without a glance back.

There was no doubt I'd deserve it and I would like to say I would take it with pride and acceptance butI would be lying if I did.

God I was selfish and I would do _anything_ to hold onto what little happiness I managed to build around me.

* * *

Red was distracted.

A light scowl stayed firmly on the rouge's face as his eyes flickered to the side every now and then as if he was reading a book only he could see.

Although the rouge wouldn't confess to it, Buck Rockgut was certain something had happened to the rouge on his way there.

But what?

The rouge eyed penguin was tempted to just ask but he had the feeling the russian wouldn't appeachate him intruding into such a matter.

The smaller had far too much pride to just confess to an issues and would no doubt likely try to solve said... issue on his own like he always did- hopefully there wouldn't be a body count this time.

* * *

He knew he should pay attention Buck's rant- He knew this would likely be something important and would in some way effect him in one way or another- but to be honest the rouge couldn't bring himself to care.

There was something much more important on his mind, or rather missing from it.

Now if only the golden eye villain could figure out exactly what it was and how the rather startling void had even gotten there.

How the hell did someone get past his Occlumency Shields- Well, he already knew the answer to that but the brute force or the surplus of power necessary...- and what was to grantee this hadn't happened before?

Or wouldn't happen again?

What if the person, or persons behind it was just waiting for him to lower his guard?

What if they had done more to his head then stealing a couple of hours?

They where probably still here- close by, watching, observing- just waiting for him to lower his guard or turn his back so they coul-

...

...

...

Oh Gods, this was turning him into a mini Rockgut. Everyone and their grandmother knew paranoia was supposed to be Rockgut's forte not his. If he kept this up he'd likely be just as insane as said American before the week was over...

The very idea left the Russian villain feeling nauseous.

Quick, he needed a way to save himself and distract his mind from such a cruel fate.

In.

Find your physcotic bastard place.

Out.

He could build another missile.

In.

He'd burn the damn spy's garden down.

Out.

Trick the American into searching the globe for some make-believe place.

In.

Harass those damn Penguins and their beloved Agents.

Out.

Seal off all the exits and blow up another agency.

In.

Start another World War.

Ou-

The rouge paused mid thought tilting his head ever so slightly. The last one seemed both physcotic and bastardly enough but would the paperwork be worth the effort?

...

...

Probably not.

And its not like they would need his help to do it seeing how Russia and The British Empire was going at each other lately. The whispers of a cold war rapidly turning into an inferno was already on the wind and it would only be a matter of time before both sides where trying to screw the other behind their back.

From there the Americans- no doubt to ally with The British Empire- would no get involved which in turn would cause Russian to seek out like minded allies of their own- most likely China. From there the other nations would placing their wagers and slowly but surely drag theirselves into the conflict.

Well maybe not Sweden but seeing as they preferred a permeant neutrality he didn't really expect them to.

...

...

Okay, maybe War World was a bit much and far too much effort then it was worth. He needed something else.

Something drastic yet subtle. Something no one could trace back to him...

Or where people would be too stupid to trace it back to him.

That kind of gave him an idea actually.

* * *

The damn Russian wasn't listening.

Of that Buck Rockgut was certain.

Smirking, unholy shine to eyes, slight twitching of right index finger.

He could all but feel his _'Mad Russian plotting World Destruction'_ and _'Oh fuck, we're going to need a miracle to get off of this shit'_ Instincts going off in his head.

Judging from the slight darkening of emerald eyes, the spy had noticed as well. A soft sigh left the rouge eyed Penguin, they had better nip this in the bud before it had a chance to get out of hand.

And maybe then he could get the pair to focus on the Life and Death matter he called them out here for.

* * *

Why was it every time there was a Global Threat Agent Nigel or Rockgut automatically sought him out?

And why was it automatically his fault?

...Okay maybe he had a slight hand in this one but Hell, he had only mentored the brat for a few years... He may have looked over and improved a couple of blueprints...

Still, What Francis Blowhole did in his free time had nothing to do with him nor did the rouge have any plans to get involved in it. Now that he thought about it...

"Isn't your Protégé in charge of that district, Rockgut?"

Red didn't bother attempting to hide his scowl as the taller shifted slightly in unease.

Really? Had they really been drug out here to go through _'This'_ again? The American's damnable Mother Hen tendencies was once again calling the shots.

"I thought so. I am not getting involved."

"He's missing Squirrel. He hasn't tried contacting Headquarters and failed to make his last report."

"Give him a week, I'm sure he'll show up. "

He did the last time after all. And the time before and the time before that. That Skipper of Rockgut's got into equal if not more trouble then his mentor on a daily basics.

For all the rouge knew the two could be _'getting further acquainted'_ like the last time and he refused to be pressured into checking only to walk into two teenagers in the mist of a BDSM Session again.

Physcotic Villain or not, there where some things he just didn't want to know.


	48. Chapter 48

_Sirius._

_God, I hadn't thought about him in a long time. The faint memory of the horror etched onto the man's face as I fell which once haunted me had slowly drifted so far into my memories it was almost like a dream but now..._

_Now that I had seen my younger self._

_Had visited the ruins of what once was my home and attended my own parents funerals, the memory had been dragged to the surface once more._

_If I had still been just Harry I likely would have stormed Azkaban to retrieve the man but I wasn't and I would never be Just Harry again. Harry had been wreckless and emotional yet as Nigel I was anything but. So I did something Harry never would of done:_

_I left an innocent man to rot in that Hellhole of a prison with soul sucking demons who would all too happily drain any happiness from his very soul for the next thirteen years._

_It was easier to do then I cared to admit, maybe time really had Jaded me or maybe it was the constant excuse of the timeline needing to be preserved._

_Honestly who knew? Maybe I was just that much of a Bastard now._

_Either way, It didn't matter as it was highly unlikely I would ever see Padfoot again._

* * *

_**~1982~**_

There was a time in one's life when one must man up and accept the consequences for one's actions.

This was not one of those time.

If anything now was the time to be doing the exact opposite. Maybe even seeing how many continents he could get between him and this obviously insane princess before she realized he was long gone.

Save a Princess once and they try damning you for all eternity.

To be honest it was any folly of her's. She was a beautiful and highly intelligent child,but still a child in his eyes. Especially concerning her philosophy of Fairytale ending- there was a reason they where called Fairytales thank you very much.

He hadn't rescued her for love, honor or _'the fair princess' hand in marriage'_ like the knights of old may have done. Marriage was a fickle thing in his line of work and therefore out of the question. His obvious disinterest in woman helped in that matter. He had just done it because it was his mission. Nothing more, nothing less.

She could go offer that_ 'reward'_ to some other fool.

* * *

Why did he always have to deal with the drunks better yet:

"How the hell do you keep getting in my office?"

His office was surrounded by the highest of security right in the Heart of MI6 HQ so how the hell did he have a drunken rouge sleeping on his office's couch without anyone noticing or alarms deafening the world?

Unfortunately the soft undisturbed breathing made it clear he wouldn't be getting an answer any time soon.

Sighing softly, the British Spy made his way towards his desk, an amused smile twisting onto his lips at sight of an high quality bottle of whiskey sitting innocently between his papers.

Well, he supposed things could be worse, at least the younger had brought him a Peace Offering of sorts.

* * *

Politics was a game of fine words and scantly veiled threats.

For each baby step one took forward there was always a dozen people trying to push you six steps back.

He suppose one could claim Politics the Devil's Game, which in all honestly might explain why Red had such a natural talent for it. It would be impressive if it wasn't so disturbing on how the younger had people old enough to be their grandparents all but eating out of his hand with but a few cleverly charismatic insults.

"If he runs for office we're all Damned. "

Watching the crowd slowly but surely proliferate as the hour passed, Nigel had to concede:

The American may have a point.

* * *

"Nigel."

Emerald eyes glanced up from his cookbook locking onto Dylan's form with a slight curiosity.

"Yes?"

"Can you explain to me why Agent Rockgut and The Red Squirrel is tied up at our kitchen table."

Huh, he knew he was forgetting something.

"They're staying for dinner. "

"And how does staying for dinner end up with them looking as though a freight train decided to run them over?"

Why did everyone give him that look?

He had only invited them over for a proper Holiday Dinner, it wasn't his fault the two had decided to be extra stubborn about it. Honestly Everyone knew you didn't spend Christmas Dinner alone and that's exactly what those two had planned. Hell, Red didn't even plan to celebrate the holiday! And then they had started coming up with excuses not to attend forcing him to take a firm hand on matters.

"Don't be ridiculous. Only Red had an issue with a train and it missed him...Mostly. "

Dylan couldn't help but choke on his tea as his son's words registered.


	49. Chapter 49

_~1984~_

He was getting old.

Usually Nigel fount he could avoid such thought but sitting there, holding his newborn nephew while waiting to know wither or not his sister would survive, the spy could feel the age settling heavily upon him.

It seems like only yesterday he was being introduced to his younger sister while his father proudly looked on and now here he was; sitting in a hospital, holding his nephew; an Uncle. Heh, there must be a joke out there somewhere about that. He wasn't exactly _Uncle_ material after all.

"Nigel Tux?'

He stood, holding the infant closer to his chest, while he stared down upon the Doctor who had been tending to his sister.

"Yes, How- how is she?"

The Doctor- a woman in her late thirties, early forties- sighed softly, pity dancing within her dark eyes.

"We need to talk."

As of late, Nigel fount he hated hearing those words. Nothing good ever followed.

He can't do this. It was ridiculous, he wasn't.. he couldn't... He didn't know how to raise a child.

He was a spy, a man always on the move. Always watching, always observing, always having people after his head. Maybe 'Just Harry' would have been but Nigel openly admitted He wasn't the parent sort. Yet looking down at those sky blue eyes, the white haired brit knew he couldn't get rid of the child. He couldn't just ponder it off onto another. It was his Family, his nephew. The last reminder of his precious little sister.

The spy wasn't the parental sort, but maybe...

Maybe he could learn.

It couldn't possible be any harder then surviving a yearly assassination by a Dark Lord... Right?

* * *

_~1985~_

He takes it back. He would rather have the Dark Lord.

The infant makes his days and nights a living nightmare.

Yet he refuses to give up.

He could do this. He would do this and he'd do it right. He owed her that much at least.

* * *

_~1986~_

He's not sure why he's here, standing in the dreadfully boring cookie cut shaped houses. This wasn't the sort of place one would think to find a man like him, yet the rouge can't help but feel as though he needs to be here.

There's something important here. Something that as utterly ridiculous as it sounds is his.

Shoving his hands into the jacket pockets, the rouge brooded his way down the snowy parkway. Why would anything of his be here? He sure as hell didn't place it here. Its prosperous. Its ridiculous. Its-

A little black hair toddler running into him.

For a moment, the rouge just blinks as he looks over the small toddler laying in the snow.

Where's his coat? His jacket?

How in their sane mind allowed a child outside in improper clothing that looks remarkably like elephant skin?

A sighs tears itself away from his lips as a he offers a hand to the young one, instantly noticing how the boy flinches into himself as though the younger expected to be hit.

Large improper clothing for the season. Broken glasses held together solely by tape. Alone despite his age. He's pretty sure those are bruises on the child's arms. The rouge was willing to bet he'd discover more under the so called clothes. One doesn't have to be a prodigy to put the pieces of this puzzle together.

Kneeling down the rouge allows a gentle smile to fall onto his face to masquerade anger he can feel coursing through his veins.

"Come on Kit. Lets get you out of the snow. "

The young kit feels far too frail within his arm to be natural.

Later the rouge will wake up in his hotel room with no recollection of the past six hours. No matter how hard the Russian searches he cannot find his jacket of scarf. A frown comes to his face as the Russian made a memo to upgrade his security. If such a petty thief- for what else could it be that they would only take a coat and scarf- managed to break in it obviously wasn't up to standards.

Elsewhere, a five year old boy will smile softly as he sleeps upon a worn out military cot, wrapped tightly in the protective material of a golden eye man with hair of blood and fire.

* * *

_~198_7~

His animagus form is useful for more then just surviving within the artic.

As a spy he must be willing to use any and all advantages to successfully complete his missions.

Still he wonders what the world would say if they knew a literally penguin was behind their enemy's sudden and rather massive leak in intelligence?

Shame they'll never know.

* * *

_~1988~_

He's a stubborn bastard if Nigel ever meet one. He's not sure how the rouge keeps locating his younger self but it has to stop.

"Why do you keep making me do this?"

He asks softly though he knows the unconscious man will not respond. He looks peaceful when he sleeps not at all like the angry and betrayed person that had stood before elder only an hour ago with a seven year old Harry Potter shoved protectively behind him. Sighing softly the Spy threads his fingers through the younger's hair.

"You live to make my life complicated, Don't you?"

To be honest, Nigel wouldn't be surprised it that was the case.

Red had always been a chaos magnet, if the spy had ever saw one, causing trouble everywhere he went with a mad gleam to his golden eye and a shark like smirk firmly on his face. If the elder man was honest he loved those moments. The trill that consumed him every time he matched himself against the younger. The sweat, blood and tears spilled as their wills clashed, both too stubborn to surrender without a fight.

He always felt most alive during these moments and how they always managed to leave him wanting more.

With a soft, fond smile on his face the spy once more focused on the sleeping man before him.

"Lets get you home, Love."

Elsewhere, a young boy of seven smiled to himself as he clutched his new prescription glasses to his chest. Once more his rouge angel had returned for him only to be torn asunder just when they laid upon the verge of victory. Though it saddened him they where torn apart the young boy knew the other would manage to return to him once more. No matter how many times they where forcible part his angel would always come back.


End file.
